Think of Me as Your Family
by satanslut
Summary: *Set in Season Six/Season Three* Sequel to Think of Me as Your Friend. Willow and Spike have finally found acceptance from her friends and happy almost-domesticity together when a call from Angel changes everything. (Willow/Spike/Angel eventually)
1. Chapter 1

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter One)

Willow should have known.

Everything had been going so well: Xander and Anya were happily married (just _how_ happily had been described in embarrassing detail by Anya more than once); Giles was coming to terms with the fact that she and Spike were together and his presence was doing wonders for Buffy, who was also being terrific about the way things had turned out; Dawn was even thawing towards Willow. Other than a bunch of nonsense from the Loser Trio, things had been great for a whole week. Willow should have known it was too good to last.

"Hold on. What are you saying, Angel? Whose son?" Willow held the phone to her ear, trying to ignore Spike's eye-rolling and annoyed sighs. She put her hand over the mouthpiece. "Shh!" Then she turned her attention back to Angel. "Another dimension? Okay, whose son is this again? Yours? But I thought you said this was a…" He was drunk, she finally realized as she listened to him slur his words. Obviously he was hallucinating, or confused, or… "What do you mean you and Darla have a son? I thought Drusilla was Spike's…" This was getting more confusing by the minute, especially with what Angel said next. "Not Spike? But… and Darla's dead – really dead. You killed her!"

Her confusion seemed to sober him up and he started filling in some key details. "Wolfram and Hart – they're an evil law firm – they brought Darla back somehow. We… became involved. And yeah, I know it's impossible, but she got pregnant, gave birth to my son: Connor."

Oh god. Willow wanted to sit down, but she was at the phone in the hall. Spike was trying to grab the receiver, and she pulled it away. Covering the mouthpiece – again – she admonished him, "I'll tell you in a minute." Getting back to Angel, she asked, "So what happened to him? Connor."

"I should have told him. About the magic. I should have told him I can't help him." Willow was sitting on the couch with Spike, still completely discombobulated by Angel's phone call. Goddess but this was… unexpected? Bizarre? Unbelievable? She couldn't even figure out the right word for it. "Are you okay?" she asked, noticing that Spike looked pretty freaked out.

"Yeah," he said softly, but it wasn't very convincing.

"It's got to be weird for you, huh?" She edged closer and put her arm around him, bringing his head down to her shoulder. What was she supposed to say? What _could_ you say to a vampire who just discovered he had a brand new human uncle… an infant uncle… an uncle who'd been kidnapped and taken to another dimension? This wasn't the kind of situation Hallmark made cards for… though she had always wondered what they thought about the brisk business the local Gold Crown store did in condolence cards.

"That's one way to put it, love." Spike's voice was soft and strange and he leaned into her hand as she stroked his hair. Somehow this reminded her of the night he'd first kissed her. "Angel having a brat? Seems hard to believe, doesn't it?"

"And now his son's been kidnapped and taken to another dimension," Willow reminded him.

"Yeah." Spike sat up. There was a tension in his posture now. "He called _you_. He asked for your help."

It took her a moment to figure it out, but she knew Spike well enough to realize that he was hurt. He hated Angel, but… Angel was family and she knew that deep down a part of Spike longed for his approval, or at least some acknowledgment. "He probably doesn't know how to reach you," she offered. "It's not like anyone's told him about us." Her hand was over his and she felt him relax slightly. It was a relief. She hated to see him in any kind of pain. "I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to tell him you were here."

He shrugged, but the tension was back. "Not like I'd be much use. You're the one with the mojo he needs."

Huh? "_Was_ the one. Remember? I'm off the sauce these days."

"Yeah. Guess no one told him about that either." Now his other hand was over hers. "Sorry. Didn't mean to remind ya."

His lips touched her forehead and it felt like the forgiveness she hadn't known she needed until he offered it. A part of her wished so badly that she could help Angel. Maybe… "I should talk to Tara. She could probably…"

Spike put an arm around her. "She might do. Never seen her work the really big mojo on her own."

Neither had Willow and for a moment her hope dimmed. But Tara's problem was probably more a confidence issue than any magical deficiency. After all, she was a hereditary witch. She had to be able to call on a wellspring of pure power, right? She could save Angel's son. All she needed was to believe in herself, and maybe if Willow and Spike showed her that _they_ had faith in her abilities, she'd have the courage to dig deep and find her full potential. "She can do it," Willow affirmed with more certainty.

"You gonna call the Poof? Tell him you're sending a relief witch?"

Willow thought about it for a moment, weighing both sides of the equation. Then she shook her head. "I better wait and talk to Tara first." As much as she longed to give Angel concrete hope, she realized it would be wrong to back Tara into a corner. No matter what, Tara had the right to decide for herself. Then another issue came to mind. "What about Buffy? Should we…?"

"No." It was one word and it was vehement.

He was right, of course. Buffy had been through enough; the last thing she needed was to learn that Angel had had sex with someone else… and had a child with them. Willow knew how much it would hurt Buffy that her dream had come true with a different woman in the starring role. "Yeah. Guess it would do a lot more harm than good."

"That's the understatement of the year, pet." He pulled her close. "The Slayer's come a long way, longer than I thought she could, really, but this? This'd send her right back into the abyss."

"I know." She leaned against her lover, wondering, and not for the first time, how she'd gotten so lucky while Buffy couldn't seem to catch a break. It didn't seem fair. "You know, I've tried everything I know, checked every source I could… I could bring Buffy back from the dead and I couldn't fix Angel's soul. I wish…" She started to cry.

Spike was having none of it. "She and Angelus were always a lost cause. As friends, as lovers… They were never gonna make it work. Should have stuck to bein' allies in battle, that's how I see it." She looked at him, feeling insecure again. He got it. He always did. "Now, now. I am not sayin' that because I used to fancy her. I'm sayin' it because I know what love is now. Because of _you_." He kissed her softly and then continued. "What they had? It was only gonna end badly. Not because of his soul, but because of who they are."

For a second, Willow thought about arguing with him, but then she wondered: was he right? Yeah, sure, Willow had seen Buffy and Angel together more than he had… still, now that she thought about it he sort of had a point. Even before they'd known about the happiness clause, things hadn't exactly been rosy, had they? What with Buffy wanting a normal life and all, which, come to think of it, she pretty much still did.

Before she could agree with him, however, Spike's lips were on hers again and there were hands… hands in very familiar and enjoyable places. He needed comfort and a way to get his mind off of everything – and hey, she didn't think that was such a bad idea herself. So when he moved to pull her shirt over her head, she helped him.

"I love you," she breathed as his mouth moved down to her neck and his fingers found the clasp of her bra.

Again, she got thinky for a moment as she wondered if maybe they should move this upstairs… and then Spike's lips closed around one of her nipples. The heck with it. Rechristening the couch seemed like a great idea.

As her hands began the work of undoing Spike's jeans, she decided to turn off her brain and let herself feel. With everything she was going to have to think about, her brain needed the rest anyway. Besides, this was a job for her body and…. "Oh!" She was on her back and her jeans and panties were gone and… "Oh God!" Spike was doing that amazing thing with his tongue. Bye-bye brain. Come back later… way later.

To be continued…


	2. Chapter 2

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Two)

Willow was still shaking when they got back to the house. "Man, that was…"

"That it was, pet." Spike was obviously just as freaked out by what they'd just gone through as she was. Bet Buffy was more wigged than the both of them put together.

"I can't imagine how scared she must have been. Thinking she was in a mental hospital? That her whole life was some delusion?" Willow's shaking didn't stop. She remembered what it had been like when she'd been delusional with magic…and when Rack had taken his 'tours' in her head. The thought that Buffy endured anything like that… the fact that at one time Buffy actually _had_ been in an institution… "Do you think we should have stayed with her?"

Spike opened the front door and then put his arm around her again as they walked in. "She's got Dawn there. I think they need some time, just the two of 'em."

He had a point. Dawn had been through a lot with this too. There was healing that needed to be done that was a Summers thing only.

"C'mere and sit with me, love."

That sounded like the best idea ever, so she joined Spike on the couch. "I'm glad Tara showed up," she said. Sure, her ex hadn't been able to kill the demon, but hey – she untied them and that was a plus.

Spike was giving her a look, that shadowed look that always meant something. "I know this is a bit of bad timing, but Tara… we need to talk about her."

Talk? They needed to talk about Tara? Now? Willow was getting another wiggins. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," he took her hand and stared into eyes, "that after tonight… it's pretty obvious she doesn't have what it takes to help Angel get his boy back."

"Of course she does! She got us untied. Oh! And she knocked the shelves right into the demon and…"

"And then Buffy knocked her out. You know as well as I do that those spells were Magic 101. You had more mojo back when you were bollixing stuff up."

"That is so not true! I learned practically everything from Tara. And anyway, she was totally taken by surprise. You can't judge her based on what she did when she was completely unprepared."

"Really? Quick. What would your go-to spell be if a demon burst in back when you were workin' the magics?"

Without thinking she answered, "Thicken," and she realized that maybe she'd made his point.

"Damn right. But it takes energy, doesn't it? You'd have done it, untied everyone down in the basement, and had your shields up at the same time. Tara could barely manage untying us and knocking over a set of rickety shelves. Maybe she could manage that 'thicken' spell with a whole lot of preparation, but if she needs that much work for something you used to do in your sleep, how the bloody hell is she gonna mojo a vampire's brat out of another dimension?"

Willow wanted to argue, but she couldn't. Tara was a good witch, a pure witch, but… she wasn't a powerful witch, was she? Leaning against Spike, Willow started to cry. On top of everything they'd gone through today, now she had to face the prospect of telling Angel that his son was lost forever. "What are we going to do?" Her sobs continued for a few minutes as Spike held her and murmured soothing words, but finally they died down. Spike seemed about to say something of more import than 'there, there', but Willow cut him off when she had a sudden burst of inspiration. "Giles! Giles has to know someone who can help!"

Her enthusiasm was quickly punctured. "Do you really think that's a good idea? Even if he didn't spill it all to Buffy, there's no guarantee he'd lift a finger for Angel."

He was right and Willow almost wanted to kick him. Nothing but doom and pain were on the horizon – and not just for Angel. Her own guilt was overwhelming. Then there was Spike. Sure, he and Angel had tried to kill each other more than once and anybody overhearing his and Willow's recent conversations would be trying to figure out Spike's angle, but Willow knew that underneath all the bad blood was… well… _blood_. Angel was Spike's family and when it all came down to it… "I'm so sorry," she said, the tears returning to her eyes.

There was that look again – the shadowed one. What did it mean _this_ time? "I want to ask you something."

Trembling. She was doing it again. Because even though she had no idea what Spike was about to ask, she was pretty sure it was going to scare her. "What?" she replied in a voice as full of tremors as her body.

"Do ya still pray? I mean all that goddess/Wicca stuff. The way you used to."

What was the right answer to that? Because the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was falling off the wagon, but… Okay. She decided to be honest… sort of. "Sometimes," she offered haltingly.

Was that a sigh of relief? She didn't get it. But she had a feeling she was about ready to be hit with another question, so she'd know soon enough… too soon, in fact. "When we were down in that basement, when I saw the way you were holding back, when I felt this…" He got up and started pacing and Willow was now officially terrified. "Look, love. I know we all thought you needed to… But I felt this force around you. The magic's there. Hell, I think Tara might even have tapped into it, though not consciously or she might have been able to do…" Willow's terror was now mixed with equal parts confusion and dread, but she had no idea what to say, though she wanted to say something, anything, to stop Spike.

He didn't stop, though.

"What I'm trying to say is this." He sat back down and took her hands in his. "I want you to pray or talk or whatever it is you do with that goddess of yours. Ask her to tell you if you can do this – if you can get Angel's boy out of that other dimension."

What? How could he even…? After everything…? "What about Dawn? What about what I did to you and to Tara and everyone else? How can you even think that I…?"

Spike pulled her into his arms. "I know it's hard. I'm not sayin' you didn't go off the end a bit."

"A bit? I messed with all your minds! I almost killed Dawn! And Tara…" She didn't even want to think about what she'd done to Tara. She and Spike had talked about it once, but only once. It was still so painful to believe she was capable of something like that.

"I know." He held her tightly in his arms, but she felt completely alone in her pain and self-hatred – all of which she totally deserved. "Maybe you need to talk to her about that," he said softly.

There was no maybe about it. Willow knew that the minute he suggested it. It was scarier than any demon she'd ever faced – scarier even than a life without magic – but she guessed she'd known for awhile that it was something she needed to do. Getting up, she headed for the phone.

Spike was the one who seemed confused now. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Tara."

"I didn't mean you had to talk to her right now."

"If I don't, I'll lose my nerve," she said, her voice shaking – again – even as she picked up the receiver and dialed Tara's number.

The phone at the other end rang… and rang… and rang again. Willow was about to hang up when she heard a familiar voice. "Hello?"

"T-Tara?" Oh goody. This time Willow was the one who was stuttering. Okay, she could do this… Except, as much as she wanted to, she couldn't do this over the phone. Tara deserved a face-to-face meeting. And the chance to slap – or punch – her if she wanted. "I think we need to talk. Is there any chance… Do you have time tonight? Can I come over?"

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Three)

It was weird, being back in Tara's dorm room. All these familiar things… they'd made love on that bedspread more than once. Goddess but it felt like a lifetime since those days. "Hey," Willow said. She'd already said 'hi', but 'hey' was different, right? Her legs felt like they were made out of pudding. How was she even able to stay upright?

Tara was just standing there, probably wondering why Willow was even here but way too kind and polite to tell her to just say what the heck the point of this meeting was already. "I guess you'd probably like to know why I wanted to talk to you, huh?" Tara nodded in response; her eyes were wide, guileless, and full of questions. She was really beautiful, wasn't she? That realization didn't make Willow fall for her again, but it made her remember in an almost physical way why she'd loved her before. She really owed Tara, didn't she? If for no other reason than the memory of that love and how much it had given her – how much of the good that existed in her was because of Tara. "I… I need to apologize."

Still uncomprehending, those eyes. "What for?"

"For what I did to you."

That wasn't all, and she knew she needed to say more. Especially since Tara didn't quite get what she was trying to say. Her brow was furrowed as she addressed what she thought Willow was talking about. "It's okay. It is. You and Spike…"

"That's not what I meant," Willow interrupted. "I mean… what I _did_ to you." Taking a deep breath, she finally said it. "When I… when I did the memory spell on you and we… I… when I took advantage… No, not took advantage. It was worse than that. I mean when I…" She collapsed in tears. "Oh god, Tara, I'm so sorry. Because I hurt you and it was wrong and it was evil and it was worse than the magic and nobody has a right to hurt you like that. I…"

For the first time in a long time, she was in Tara's arms. A moment passed, a moment that seemed endless, but then she heard Tara's soft voice. "I forgive you."

That could have been it, but Willow hadn't really said it, had she? And she knew that the words had to be said. She let go of Tara and took a step back, making sure that Tara could see her eyes. "I betrayed you, didn't I? I mean, it's not like you would have if… So yeah, I… I…," the words tasted like arsenic and acid on her tongue even before she said them out loud, "I manipulated you. I tricked you. I took away your choice. I got you to do something you wouldn't have done if you'd remembered… I was so wrong and there's nothing I can do to fix it, but…" Saying it – the whole ugly truth – somehow it made everything infinitely worse and infinitely better all at once. "I'm so sorry," she repeated, even though she realized that it sounded miserable and shriveled and not nearly important enough.

Now Tara was the one whose cheeks were wet with tears. "I h-hadn't thought of it like that," she said, and for a terrible moment Willow wondered if this whole conversation hadn't simply been one more selfish, horrible act on her part, but then Tara continued, "But it was wrong. I knew that. I th-think… I think I needed to hear you say…" There was a long pause. "Thank you." Those two words were the last ones Willow had ever expected to hear. "C-could you just go now? I k-kind of need to b-be alone."

There was nothing she could do to take away any of the pain she'd unearthed within Tara tonight, was there? All she could do was remind herself that Tara understood that this was something she'd needed in order to heal from wounds she hadn't even known were bleeding within her. That healing was something Tara needed to do on her own. "Goodbye," she said softly, and she left without expecting a farewell in reply.

It seemed as if she'd walked for hours before she got back to her house. Spike was sitting in the living room… and there was tea. Once again, she found herself in tears. His kindness and consideration were completely undeserved. "I hurt her," she whimpered and a second later, she was in Spike's arms.

"There, there, pet. It was real before you said anything." How did he know?

"I still can't believe that I could do something like that. That I could be that evil and bad. How can you still love me, knowing what I did?"

Spike didn't let go. "Sometimes, when we love people, when we're terrified of losing 'em…" There was silence and Willow wasn't sure he was going to say more, but then he did. "I turned my Mum," he said softly, so softly that she wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly. "Turned her right after Dru made me. Didn't want to live without her, but…" He was clinging to her tightly now and she could feel his tears against her neck. "It was awful, awful." The words kept coming. "She… I ended up stakin' her. Changed her into a demon because I was so bloody selfish – couldn't see past wanting my Mum with me forever – and it was all for nothing. Wound up killing her twice, bastard that I am." He wasn't quite sobbing, but the emotion was there and Willow felt all of his pain as if it had crept inside her bones.

They stayed like that, silent and unmoving, for a few minutes; it was as if the whole world stood still. Spike's story, missing pieces and all, sank in and it was if she could feel her heart breaking. No, he didn't have a soul and she knew that there were many terrible deeds he could have recounted to her, but this one – this one… yes, this was the very worst.

It was so much like what she'd done to Tara, wasn't it? What he'd done, what _she_ had done – their actions were all the more cruel and unforgivable because of the lies they'd told themselves as their selfishness caused them to savage the people they loved best in all the world.

Now, though, she supposed, she understood how he could love her – because she still… "I love you," she said in a low voice.

"I love you, too," he replied, just as quietly.

So they remained, standing by the sofa, holding each other for dear life. This wasn't one of those times when they wanted to comfort each other with sex; Willow wasn't sure if there _was_ any way to comfort someone when they'd shown you the blackest part of their being. She and Spike hadn't made love the night she'd first told him the whole, unvarnished truth about what she'd done to Tara either.

So she just held him and let him hold her.

It seemed like the only thing to do.

To be continued…


	4. Chapter 4

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Four)

Willow had been downstairs for hours when Spike came into the kitchen. She'd been sitting in the dark, conscious of… everything. She'd known when she left Tara's room, hadn't she? That she'd opened the door again. That she'd just had that 'talk' with the goddess Spike had urged on her.

"You done the thinking you needed?" he asked. Well, there went her theory that he'd been sleeping peacefully all this time. She wished he had been. It would have been nice if one of them had gotten real rest.

"Guess so," she shrugged.

"Want some light?" She shrugged again and he flipped the switch. She squinted her eyes tight against the sudden, harsh glare.

"I wasn't quite ready," she whined as she slowly cracked open her eyelids.

"We never are, are we," Spike replied, and definitely not talking about the overhead light – not _only_ that, anyway. No, she wasn't getting out of talking about everything here and now.

"I'll call Angel. Tell him we'll be there tonight."

Spike evinced not one whit of surprise. "What are we gonna tell your friends? The Watcher?"

Now there was a good question. Was 'I was hoping you'd come up with something because you lie a lot better than I do' a good answer? Probably not, though maybe, because Spike did like being reminded of his Big Bad-ness from time to time. "Sort of thought you'd handle all the sneaky stuff. Seeing as how you're the one who's good at it and all." She refrained from batting her eyes. That would be laying it on a little thick.

He ruffled her hair. "Soft little coward, aren't you?" Gee, was it that obvious? "But I am a bit better with the plausible cover stories at that." He sat down and seemed to be giving the matter serious thought. Seconds ticked by, or they might have been minutes, and silence reigned. Then Spike sighed. "Damned if I can think of any good reason for you and me to be in L.A. Not one that doesn't involve the poof, and mentioning him is the problem in the first place."

His point was well-taken. How in the heck could they explain going to Los Angeles? Especially since lying about where they were going would prove tricky in case anyone needed to reach them for an emergency.

Willow's brow furrowed in thought for a moment and as she reached up and touched the lines forming there, she thought of how often Angel brooded – wait! Maybe that was it. Not brooding, but the whole… "We could say you want to tell him about us. In person. Him being kind of your sire and all."

The moment the word 'sire' left her mouth, she winced, wondering how Spike would react, but his expression seemed almost happy. Huh. "You're a better liar than you half get credit for," he responded, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

She grinned, then thought better of it. That shouldn't be a compliment, though from her soulless demon boyfriend, she guessed it was. "Well, I guess it's okay since it's for a good cause and all," she equivocated.

Spike was silent for a moment – guess the reality of what they were about to do was sinking in. The last time he'd seen Angel… hadn't torture been involved? Oh god. Willow probably should call Angel and let him know that she was coming – and who she was coming with. She'd rather die than see Spike get staked.

"I'm gonna go use the phone, okay?" He nodded and made no move to follow her, though she figured he would in a moment, pretending he wasn't eavesdropping. She was kind of getting used to the whole 'demon' thing and all its attendant eccentricities.

Memorizing phone numbers had always been easy for Willow and Angel's was no exception, so she didn't have to check her address book before dialing. The phone rang twice before being picked up. "Angel?"

She could almost hear him nod before remembering he needed to speak; Oz had been the same way. Yeah, you never really forgot the ways of the Taciturn Man. "Willow. Did you…?"

"I couldn't really do any research here. Guess you can sort of understand, but… But I'm on my way there and I'm sure I can figure this out. Not like it's the first time… I mean I brought Buffy back from… Maybe not the best comparison, but what I mean is that I have some experience with alternate realities and retrieving people and…" She was stammering and babbling like she was back in tenth grade. Oh goddess. Plus her palms were sweating. She better just blurt it out. "Look. I… I'm not coming alone. I'm bringing someone with me." Nice redundancy there.

"Buffy?" Angel asked – and was that nervousness she heard? It was going to get so much worse when she told him…

"No. It's… It's Spike."

"Spike?" His voice went up an octave and he sort of sounded like Xander when he was freaking out, not that she would ever in a million years say that to Angel. "Why…?"

"He's my boyfriend."

Silence. There were so many kinds of silence. Happy silence, thoughtful silence… this, though? This was ominous silence.

Or maybe it was just stunned. Willow crossed her fingers, hoping for stunned, even as she felt Spike's presence somewhere behind her. She didn't turn around, electing to pretend she didn't know he was there. He liked feeling like the super sneaky Big Bad. Besides, she was too busy worrying about Angel and that silence.

Which was now broken. "Did you say boyfriend? Because Buffy told me…"

Great. She had to have the orientation talk _now_? "Yes, I had a girlfriend. But we broke up and now I'm with Spike. Does the bisexual thing bother you?"

Spike blew his cover past pretense with a sharp guffaw and Willow decided she had some questions to ask later, but for now… "No, of course not." Did Angel sound weird? Along with the guffaw, this had officially made Willow extra curious. "But Spike? Willow, he's a soulless…"

"Did you get this speech from the Giles book of clichés?" Willow asked, feeling kind of snippy. Here she was offering to help him get his son back from another dimension and Angel was hassling her about her love life. "Because for your information, Giles has totally come around, and so has everyone else. We even have Buffy's blessing." Taking a deep breath, she calmed herself, feeling sort of guilty because, hey, Angel had to be totally panicking what with everything he was going through. "Look, I get that you're on edge right now, but me and Spike? We're a package deal. So if you want my help, you have to accept him too. Besides, he'll be a lot of help if we have to fight any demons."

"Buffy told me about the chip," Angel finally said, "So I guess I can accept that he won't cause much trouble." Another pause and then, "When will you be here?"

"We're leaving tonight as soon as the sun's down."

"Okay. I'll see you tonight then." She expected him to hang up and maybe he'd been about to, but then he said, "Thank you" in the most vulnerable voice she'd ever heard from him.

How to even respond to it. She realized in that moment how much Angel loved his son. Failure was not an option, so she did something she swore she wouldn't do. "I'll get him back for you, Angel. I promise."

He hung up without saying another word, but she got the feeling he believed her and… oh goddess. "What did I just do, Spike?" she all but wailed as she put the receiver back in the cradle. "What if I…"

A second later, she was in Spike's arms. "You'll get the kid back." The way he said it, it was like he had no doubt at all and just when she didn't think she could possibly love him more, maybe she kind of did. He tilted her chin up and forced her to gaze into her eyes. "You can do this. I've seen a lot of witches and been around a lot of hocus pocus in my time. Bloody Dru was always messing about with cards and potions. Never met anyone with the mojo you've got. You're like no one in the world." He kissed her forehead and then he added, "I know you're worried. And I admit that when all that badness went down I was right on board the 'stay off the magics forever' train, but… I was wrong. The other night, when I felt… Magic isn't something you _do_, it's something you _are_. Okay, you went a bit wrong for a time, but you've learned and… You're good, pet. Deep down, in your heart, you're good. That good is what's gonna make it all come right."

Willow couldn't stop herself from tearing up. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Now, dry your eyes, because you have to go tell your pretty fairytale to your chums while I pack our things."

What? She was going to have to lie by herself?

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Five)

The cacophony that just three people could create struck Willow as astounding. Boy did she wish she had done a study of this phenomenon for her science project back in high school. She'd have totally beaten Chris.

Of course, right now, the din was less 'scientifically interesting' and more 'eardrum-shatteringly annoying.'

She stood, silent and non-participatory, as Buffy, Xander, and Giles competed to see who could object the most loudly and strenuously to the idea of Willow and Spike paying a call on Angel. Despite the fact that he had the home court advantage, this being his apartment and all, Willow was still surprised that Giles seemed to be winning. Maybe it was because he was using longer words which stood out amidst the ones Buffy and Xander were using, which were pretty much the same, only configured somewhat differently.

Finally, after thanking the goddess that Anya wasn't there to add to the clamour and after suffering through about the eight hundred and seventy-fifth permutation of 'no way', she decided she'd had enough. Putting her fingers to her lips, she emitted an ear-piercing whistle, which, combined with her most resolve-y Resolve Face, seemed to finally put a stop to the loud objection contest which she had not volunteered to judge. "I'm a grown woman, remember? And I didn't come here for permission or to hear all of you shouting your opinions at me. I came here to let you know where we'd be for the next couple of days." Xander's mouth opened and Willow held her hand up. "Period! End of story. Got it?"

Her mouth set in a tight line, she waited until she received grudging nods from all three and then she breathed. "Look. I know Spike and Angel don't have the best history," Buffy snorted and Willow glared at her before continuing, "but Spike thinks, and I agree, that we should tell him about us in person, that maybe this would be a chance for them to make peace."

Everyone looked skeptical, but finally Giles nodded again, sagely this time. "I suppose it makes a certain kind of sense." Now Buffy and Xander were staring at _him_. "Well, given recent events, and Spike's current relationship with Willow, he's undergone a degree of… well… transformation might be too strong a word, but…"

"So what you mean to say is that because Spike's neutered and housebroken, he wants to make nice with dear old Dad?" You know? All Willow had to do to make Anya a widow was to repeat this to Spike – chip or no, he'd find a way to remove Xander's entrails. She decided not to share. Especially the part where Xander said Spike was neutered.

She also decided not to react to it. It wasn't in her best interest to get everyone all het up. She needed them to calm down and not worry… or think, for that matter. "Spike just wants to square things with Angel, okay? Because, hey, we all might need to work together in the future and it would be very bad if there were any distractions like, oh, say, Angel and Spike fighting each other instead of evil."

The last remark earned her a few grudging murmurs of assent and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

"We'll only be gone for a day or two," she reminded them cheerfully, hoping like heck that was true. Before she could even think about getting Connor back, she was going to need to find the right spell and buy supplies. Not like Giles's books and the Magic Box were resources on which she could draw. She did her best not to let any of her worries show in her face, and she seemed to have succeeded, as shown by the fact that no one was doubting her. Guess dating a demon was rubbing off on her. Maybe that should worry her or something, but right now, the skill at prevarication was once again part of this very important good deed she was trying to do, so she figured she had the goddess's blessing. "You won't even know I'm gone."

That led to a chorus of 'of course we will's that she should have expected and that she had to admit were nice to hear and then she was able to make her exit. Phew. Sentiment made it so much harder to maintain a lie and she was starting to feel really guilty. But then she thought about Buffy, and everything she was going through, and she felt a lot better about keeping this secret. Because there was no way Buffy could handle finding out that Angel had a baby with Darla. No way at all.

Years ago, when Buffy and Angel had been in love and they'd known nothing about the curse, Willow had had many conversations about what it meant to be with a vampire and one of Buffy's biggest regrets had been that they'd never be able to have kids together. Back then, being a mother had been something Buffy really wanted.

Did she still? Willow wondered. Did she still have the same list of names picked out? The same dreams about what her children would grow up to be? Or had the dreams died, drained by the reality of life as a Slayer like the victims of the vampires she was born to slay?

Willow realized she was crying and she struggled to regain her composure. Even in the haze of oblivion which enveloped the residents of Sunnydale, public tears didn't always go unnoticed and she was still six blocks from her house.

What had it been like for Buffy in Heaven? Yeah, Willow knew that they hadn't exactly been honest with Buffy there, what with her thinking that everything had been hunky dory back home, but… what if they'd been protecting her, just like Willow was doing now? What if whoever was in charge there was only trying to give the best Slayer ever the best eternity ever? What if…

She couldn't think about that now. No, she had to think instead of the task ahead of her – and of the awesome and dangerous responsibility she was taking on.

Magic. She would be using magic for the first time since…

This time would be different, though. No more selfishness, no more power for its own sake, no more of the rush and the high. It was back to purity for her, back to why she'd set off on the journey in the first place, opening that door within her which she now realized had always been there. Because maybe she didn't come from a long line of witches the way Tara did, but magic was part of her being all the same. Spike was right about that. It thrummed with the beat of her heart and ghosted against her skin. It was there, always there. She'd misused it and abused it, yes, but it hadn't been ripped away from her. She'd been forgiven and now she had the chance to make amends.

Opening the door to her house, she took a deep breath. Not long from now, they'd be leaving. Going to Los Angeles.

Spike was waiting for her in the living room. "You all right?" he asked, obviously smelling the tears she'd shed, or maybe her skin was blotchy. It got that way when she cried.

"They believed me," she replied.

" 'Course they believed you. Not what I asked." He pulled her into his arms and held her close. "Know ya hate lying to 'em, but it's the right thing to do."

"I know," she said softly, and she did, but that didn't make it easier.

Spike seemed to get that. "We've got time," he whispered, before his lips took on the far more pleasant task of kissing her neck.

"Mmmm," she moaned, "We sure do." Untucking his shirt from his jeans, her fingers found the skin underneath and began doing some very enjoyable exploring. She loved the way he felt – cool and smooth. He was perfect, so perfect.

"Let's take this upstairs," he suggested, and she nodded her agreement. The couch was still sentimental, but the bed was a heck of a lot more comfy… and roomy.

In what seemed like a nanosecond, here they were… and naked. She'd lost track of how many times her bra had been left on the stairs. Oh gosh, her panties were on the lamp. That was new.

Of course, another nanosecond later, she was way past worrying about how her jeans wound up on the ceiling fan because Spike was inside her. This was never, ever going to stop feeling like a miracle. It was like he was a part of her that had been missing and now he was where he should be and… "Oh!" she cried. He was moving in that way where he kept hitting just – the – right – spot and it was all she could do to keep from screaming loud enough to be heard back at Giles's house.

Guess he was liking it too because he kept calling out her name and then… She shattered, and so did he and … "Spike!"

What seemed like a century of colours and stars slowly faded and she lay panting with Spike beside her. "You're driving," she said, barely able to form words and thinking longingly of sleep.

He chuckled, but there was a shrewdness to it that she managed to notice even with her brain still half-tapioca after that orgasm. Shoot. The driver got to pick the music, huh. Great. They'd be listening to the Sex Pistols all the way to Los Angeles. No way would she able to nap through that. Good thing she'd just had too much great sex to mind.

To be continued…


	6. Chapter 6

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Six)

One thing Willow had been wrong about? Her ability to sleep through Johnny Rotten screeching his way through 'Pretty Vacant.' Fabulous sex seemed to have worn her out enough to render her immune to its horrors, even though Spike had probably sung along the whole way, because she'd slept like a baby nearly the whole drive. Wow.

It was a good thing, because she had a feeling she wasn't going to be getting any restful sleep for a while.

"Better get inside, get the unpleasantries over with," Spike said, not remarking on the fact that she'd just woken up. Was he mad that she'd slept? He leaned over and kissed her so she guessed maybe she'd been wrong about that. It was then that she figured it out: He was nervous. Okay, she could understand that, because she was nervous too, for different reasons, but still… oh yeah, very nervous.

After checking her face in the visor mirror to make sure she hadn't drooled in her sleep, Willow put her hand on the door handle and said, "Let's go."

Hand in hand, she and Spike walked into the Hyperion. It felt… empty. And yes, it was a big place and had not housed that many people even when she'd been here that one time before but it felt even emptier now. Weirdly, it was that very sense that once again brought home to her just how much magic was a part of her being.

She was about to suggest they start looking around for Angel, when Spike's voice boomed out, "Hey, Gramps! The cavalry's here!" Well, that was a different solution to the problem of finding Angel, but it worked, because he emerged into the lobby in seconds. He was glowering, though, so maybe her idea would have been better.

"Spike," he greeted through gritted teeth. His tone warmed slightly when he nodded to her. "Willow. Thank you for coming." Much to her shock he walked over and hugged her. She could hear Spike growl, but she hugged Angel back anyway.

"You're welcome," Spike spat out. Grabbing Willow's hand again and pulling her close the moment the hug ended. Good thing she didn't really mind the whole 'testosterone' thing, huh?

Well, she might mind a little. The staring contest between the two got old quickly. She didn't feel much better when Angel ended it. "Can we talk?" He phrased it as a question, but it wasn't, so with a quick kiss and a pleading look, she left Spike in the lobby and followed Angel to an office.

"What's this thing with you and Spike?"

Hadn't they already discussed this on the phone? They had. It was supposed to be over and done. Willow's back was up now, and she was ready to defend her man. "It's not all that complicated. I love him. He loves me."

Angel's sharp bark of laughter made her angry on so many levels. "He can't love, Willow. He doesn't…"

Oh no. He was so not going there. Willow cut him off. "I'm pretty sure we covered this already, but since you obviously didn't get it the easy way… Just because you couldn't love without a soul doesn't mean he can't. Spike loves me. He proves it every day. I trust him with my life. Also, because you need to know this, if it weren't for Spike, I wouldn't be here. He's the one who convinced me I could use magic again and that I could do this for you."

Willow got the distinct impression that Angel would have collapsed to the floor if he could have figured out which way 'down' was. If only Spike could see the expression on his grandsire's face. "Spike…"

Angel's voice was weak and indistinct and she took pity on him. After all, he was a man who'd lost his child. "Yeah, Spike." She guided Angel to a chair and sat opposite him. "There's some stuff you don't know. About me. Well, there's lots of stuff you don't know about me, but what you need to know is the stuff you don't know about me and magic and why I gave it up… and why I'm taking a big risk to save your son."

His eyes grew wide as she told the whole story, leaving out almost nothing. What happened with Tara was painful and she would never share it with anyone but Spike. What she did share, though – taking everyone's memories, nearly killing Dawn – that was enough. When she was done, Angel was holding her hand and looking at her with something like awe. "I can't believe you came back from that."

"Neither can I," she admitted. "If it wasn't for Spike…"

He shook his head. "The chip must have changed him more than I thought." He looked her straight in the eye. "I won't make any problems for him here."

While it would have been better if Angel hadn't given all the credit for Spike's virtue to the chip, Willow decided that taking what she could get was the better part of valour. "Thanks," she said.

"No, thank _you_." He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden and stood up, running his hand through his hair. "I should show you guys to your room, let you get some sleep."

"I slept all the way here. If you don't mind, I'd like to get a jump start on finding this spell. Don't want the goddess to have a chance to change her mind or anything. Do you still have all those books or did…" She did not want to say Wesley's name. Someday she'd get the whole story, but for now, knowing that this was all Wesley's fault was enough. Guess he hadn't changed much from the guy who'd thought it would be swell to sacrifice her to the Mayor and Faith after all.

"I still have the books," Angel replied. There was the ghost of something like a smile, a very weary one, but still, and Willow realized she'd made the right choice.

"Let's get Spike, then. He's good at some languages I'm not totally fluent in."

This time, Willow led the way as they headed back to the lobby. "Hey!" she caroled as cheerily as she could. "Figured we should get cracking on the spell-hunting. Up for rooting through some dusty old books?" She gave Spike a tight hug and a kiss, which turned briefly passionate before they both decided to get back to business… or maybe it was just feeling awkward because Angel was staring. At least that might have been the case for _her_.

Before Angel could show them where to go, though, it seemed he had something to say to Spike – and this time Willow was the one who would have collapsed if she could have remembered which way was 'down'. "Willow told me. About the magic. And about what you did." It was obviously with great effort that he said what came next, but he said it with sincerity. "Thank you. Thank you for trying to save my son."

Spike's jaw clenched tight with emotion and Willow knew that, for all the times he'd tried to kill Angel and despite all the terrible things he'd done and said to and about him, his sire's words meant a great deal. "Yeah, well, I'm not the one doin' the saving. My girl'll get it done, though, I can promise ya that."

Willow wanted to chide him for making that promise, but how could she? She'd made that same promise herself. Besides, if she didn't have that same faith, she could never even try at all. Why else would she be allowed to use her powers again? They weren't a toy; she knew that now. "Let's get to work."

To be continued…


	7. Chapter 7

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Seven)

When Angel said he had all of Wesley's books, Willow hadn't dreamed the guy had such an extensive library. Where had he gotten them? She didn't _think_ he'd swiped them from Giles's stash, but had he? Well, if he had, she'd deal with that later. At first she hadn't even been angry about it anyway, thinking at least this way it would be a snap to find the spell she needed, but now… She'd read through what felt like eight hundred volumes and her eyes were starting to cross. The Fyarl incantation Spike had begun translating had seemed promising but turned out to be species-specific and it had hurt to see the light go out of Angel's – and Spike's – eyes when they'd all realized that this wasn't, in fact, the answer.

Willow was starting to wonder if there was an answer after all, or if this was some sort of punishment – being sent here to torment Angel… and herself by being the source of lost hope and infinite pain. But then…

You had to know it would be in Sumerian. "Guys?" she said tentatively, not sure she believed what was right before her eyes. "I think I've got it." She read over it three more times. It was complicated – weren't all Sumerian spells? – and involved some very convoluted dimensional portal shifting that made resurrecting Buffy seem like floating a pencil, but it was something she could do, as long as…

As long as she could stay centered and pure and as long as the goddess would let her draw on all the power she needed. So, yeah, nothing to worry about – except everything.

Spike was looking over her shoulder and she heard a low whistle. Obviously he knew enough Sumerian to get the gist of it. "Big spell," he said softly, "but nothing you can't do."

His confidence in her was sustaining. "Absolutely," she affirmed with a glance at Angel.

She looked over the spell again. The supplies she'd require were pretty basic – well, except for the gryphon toes, but she had contacts who could get those for her. Sacred sand, sage, magickal blend, etc. The usual for a big casting. She didn't have to kill anything this time, for which she was so grateful. The memory of that deer still haunted her.

Of course that didn't mean lives weren't at risk. If she lost herself, went off the rails again… She got up and pulled Spike over to a corner of the room where she hoped Angel couldn't hear them. Spike's eyes were full of questions as she spoke in a low but deadly serious voice. "If my eyes turn black… if I start to go evil…"

"You won't," he interrupted.

Putting her hand to his mouth she shook her head. "If I do, I want you to promise me something. I want you to promise to kill me."

Spike's eyes shot wide and he shook his head. Her hand fell away from his mouth and he argued, "I'll do anything but that."

Willow stood firm, resolute. This wasn't open for negotiation. "I won't do the spell unless you promise. Unless you mean it. I can't take the risk."

There was the faint glint of tears in his eyes as he finally nodded. "I promise."

"Then I should be able to do the spell tomorrow night. I just need to get the supplies in the morning. Well, and make a phone call tonight. There's one item that's kind of special, not something they keep out for regular customers at any shop I've ever heard of." That was an understatement. Nobody but a suicidal idiot would want gryphon toes used by an amateur. The unscrupulous – and Anya – might sell fakes, but most people would just tell anyone requesting them that they didn't exist. "Angel?" she called out. "Can I use your phone?"

The negotiations for the gryphon toes had been a bit tricky – Anya apparently was not the only one in the magic retail trade whose goddess was capitalism – but dropping the right names along with an employee hearing _her_ name and telling her boss that Willow had taken down Glory in battle did the trick and the real thing at an only mildly exorbitant price would be waiting for her at Pan Pipes in the morning. Thank heavens.

But was she really grateful? Because this meant… She took a deep breath. The cause was as pure as could be. The goddess approved. Everything was going to be all right. It was.

Angel was waiting out in the lobby when Willow emerged from the office. But where was… "He's upstairs in your room," Angel said, anticipating her question. "I wanted to talk to you." Really? Why? She was nervous, but curious, so when he motioned for her to sit beside him on the big, round couch, she did. "I heard what you said to Spike."

Oh. Oh no. And hey, eavesdropping! "I didn't mean for you to hear that."

He shrugged and she wasn't sure if he was going to apologize or not, but he did. "I'm sorry. With everything that's happened, I automatically… I trust you, I do. It's just that…"

"I get it." She placed her hand over his. "You trusted him. Wesley, I mean." Seeing Angel wince at the mention of the name, she hastened to offer an apology of her own. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"That's okay," he said, trying to smile before his expression turned grave again. "What I wanted to say to you was that… if you can't do this, if it's really too risky…"

A way out; as much as he wanted his son back, Angel was offering her a way out. Squeezing his hand, she shook her head. "I can do this. I was just preparing for the worst case scenario, okay?" Trying for lightheartedness, she continued, "Anyway, I've probably already used up all the badness I'm due for helping you." Noticing the confused look on his face, she helpfully reminded him, "You know. The coma?"

Okay, he was still confused. "What coma?"

"When I tried the soul restoration spell the first time." No look of recognition. Oh goddess. "Didn't Buffy tell you?" He shook his head and Willow felt her stomach fall to somewhere around her ankles. What she'd thought would be a jesting reference to old times had turned into a guilt trip and her molars ached from having her foot jammed between them. "I'm sorry," she offered lamely. "I kind of thought you knew." Her hand tightened over his again. "I shouldn't have said anything. It was a really, really minor coma. Honest. It was more like a nap." She plastered on her best perky grin, hoping it helped.

It really didn't. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea… everything you've done for me…"

"What are friends for?" She smiled, more naturally this time. "I mean it. I want to do this for you. Connor belongs with his father, not in Quor'toth." That was an understatement. She couldn't imagine leaving a child in that terrible place. The more she thought about it, the more she reasoned that this all had to come right in the end – how could the universe want a little boy to be trapped in that hell?

Getting up, she stretched and said, "I better go upstairs, get some rest. I'm gonna need all the energy I can build up."

Angel stood as well. "I'll show you to your room. I should probably check in on Fred."

"She's still here?"

"Yeah." Angel took her arm and led her to the staircase. "She won't be a problem, will she?"

"No, no. You might want to keep her out of the room, though, in case…"

"The room?"

"Oh. Yeah. I forgot to tell you that we need to be where Connor's presence was the strongest when he was in this dimension and, since he's a baby, I'm guessing that's one of the rooms here, right?"

"My room."

He really was a doting, hands-on kind of dad, wasn't he? Where had she slept when she was a baby? Had her parents stood over her crib the way she knew Angel stood over his son's? How would they have felt if she'd been kidnapped?

Ugh. No melancholy thoughts. She needed to stay strong and focused.

A moment later, she was at the door to the room she was sharing with Spike, and she gave Angel a quick hug. "It's gonna be all right. Connor will be home soon."

Her hand was on the door knob but Angel was staring at her and she wondered why. "You're an extraordinary woman, Willow." He looked down awkwardly for a moment and then added, "Spike's a lucky man." With that, he headed back down the hall toward his own room and she was left standing there thinking that was possibly the strangest thing he'd ever said to her.

With a shrug, she opened the door. Spike was sitting on the bed. "Everything okay?"

"Oh yeah. He overheard what I said to you, that's all. But everything's still on for tomorrow."

"Guess that means we'll be sleeping." Spike was right; she needed all her energy, every bit of it, so sex was off the menu until Connor was home where he belonged… and Willow had recovered from bringing him here.

"Do you mind?"

He chuckled. "'Course I mind. But I can do without for a good cause." Gesturing toward the bags, he said, "Even packed one of those ghastly things you used to sleep in. Figured you might need it."

Giving him a soft kiss, she went straight for the suitcase and opened it. Yes, her sleepshirt was right on top. He was so thoughtful and understanding – and yeah, she definitely needed something of the un-sexy variety tonight. Finding her toothbrush and toothpaste in one of the compartments, she was about to head into the bathroom when Spike's next words stopped her short. "Angel was right, you know. I'm lucky ta have you."

"You heard that?"

"Vampire, love."

She walked back over to the bed and kissed him again, more passionately this time. "I'm the lucky one," she said firmly. Then she went straight to the bathroom and shut the door before he could argue.

When she came back out, he was lying in bed, pretending to sleep. She climbed in beside him without a word. Amazingly, despite his wakefulness and her nerves, she was snoring in no time. The universe, it seemed, was firmly on the side of her being prepared.

To be continued…


	8. Chapter 8

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eight)

Sacred sand? Check. Gryphon toes? Check. Nervous witch shaking like a sapling in a hurricane? Check. She grabbed Spike's hand and drew in a deep breath before letting it out and cheating a glance over at Angel, who was, if possible, even paler than usual.

Closing her eyes, she took another breath, concentrating on the feel of Spike's hand against hers, on the trust she could feel through each of his fingers. Breathe in, breathe out. She let go of her fear and let the blessing of the goddess fill her. This was right; this was what she'd been given power for in the first place.

She opened her eyes and smiled softly. "I'm ready."

Drawing her circle, she sat cross-legged on the floor and Spike and Angel immediately sat on either side of her. Her other ingredients were laid out before her. Time to get this show on the road.

When she felt that everyone was calm, she took their hands – Spike's for grounding and Angel's to help her guide Connor home. She opened her mouth and…

The spell just emerged from her in a voice she didn't recognize as if she herself didn't need to perform the act of speaking. It was almost exactly like when she'd performed the soul restoration. She was being controlled by something greater than herself and she gave in, allowing it to use her to work the will of the goddess.

Forces began to swirl and the room filled with light and fog and it shook as if there was an earthquake, but Willow never wavered and she held fast to Spike and Angel's hands. A wave of power swept through them all like an electric shock and for a brief moment it felt as if their flesh had been fused before she began to come back to herself. The last words that came from her lips were in English, and were in her own voice. "I call the child home!" she cried, and then it happened. The air seemed to rip and a portal opened and a small baby in the arms of a very surprised man appeared, the man was held fast by the vortex and the baby was pulled from him, tumbling to the ground.

An inhuman scream of "No!" before the man was swallowed back into the rapidly closing portal… sort of. Because part of him? Didn't make it back to Quor'toth. Outside of the circle lay the head, the very bloody and angry-looking head of…

"Holtz," Spike offered softly before turning his eyes on the baby, who seemed completely uninjured – even unaware that he had fallen.

Waiting only a second for Willow's nod, Angel immediately grabbed the boy and held him close. There were tears in his eyes and Willow would have been too overwhelmed for speech except for one small problem. "Am I the only one who needs to barf?" she whimpered, before getting up and stumbling to a trash can in the corner just in time.

Her nausea was so violent that it took a moment to register that Spike was holding her hair back. "There, there, pet. That was a bit of a ride you took us all on. Makes sense you'd be sick."

Finally, her stomach decided it had disgorged enough of its contents and, after a wan smile at the man she loved, she was able to get up and go into the bathroom to rinse her mouth out. She'd never been so grateful for the fact that vampires, like humans, used mouthwash. There was no way Angel would begrudge her a swig of his Listerine.

Vomiting and residual dizziness aside, she felt very good. Connor was home – where he belonged – with his father. Then she remembered the head lying on the carpet just outside the circle of sacred sand. Oh goddess. Just because he was evil, it didn't mean Willow felt good or even justified about beheading him, not – she acknowledged somewhat grudgingly – that it was actually her fault. The spell had been in in Sumerian, a tricky language on a good day. Missing the fine print, if there even was any, didn't make her a monster.

Did it?

She went over and over everything in her mind and she knew she'd followed the instructions to the letter… well, up until the incantation, after which her participation, strictly speaking, wasn't really all that conscious. Anyway, the goddess had given her blessing and surely she knew that when gryphon toes were involved, carnage had a tendency to follow.

Or was Willow just playing her old games and trying to sell herself on the idea that she wasn't doing any real harm?

Turning on the tap, Willow leaned over the sink and splashed cold water on her face. The startling sensation brought back memories of another very recent shock and now she had a whole new set of worries.

There had been… something. She didn't know what it was, but it was definitely something. Something big and important that had happened in that brief flash of flesh knitted into flesh – hers and Spike's, yes, but also hers and Angel's.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock. "Willow? Love?" She reached over and opened the door.

"I'm okay. Just needed mouthwash and cold water." With some effort, she managed a smile, but Spike wasn't having it.

"You didn't go the least bit evil, pet. What happened to that Holtz bastard? Nothing to do with you. Hell, the blighter took himself off to the darkest dimension there is. He was bound to be eviscerated sooner or later, and my money would have been on sooner with or without you trying to get Connor back – which you did, by the way, and frankly, you ought get back out there before Angel realizes what an utter prat he's acting and you miss the full show. He's singing a _lullaby_."

Following Spike, Willow walked back into the bedroom and… What do you know? Angel really _was_ singing a lullaby. If you could call what he was doing singing, anyway. Unlike Spike, however, who was doing his best to stifle what was probably hearty laughter, Willow was more touched than amused by the sight of Angel – big, strong Angel – cradling his son in his arms with a gentleness that astonished her and gazing at him as if nothing more precious had ever existed.

Angel stopped singing when he noticed she was there and there was the shine of tears in his eyes. "Thank you," he choked out. "Thank you for saving my son."

She shrugged, not sure what to say, but Angel was already cooing at his son again, so maybe it didn't matter. Still, she thought he should know something. "Connor might be a little bit younger than when he left. Part of the spell was realigning the continuum so that… Well, it's complicated, but basically Connor is the same as he was when he was last in this room."

Spike was behind her now, and his arms wound around her waist; she leaned back against him.

When his hand was over hers, she remembered again about that strange sensation. Maybe they should talk about it.

Or not – at least right now. Suddenly, she began feeling an adrenaline crash even bigger than the ones that usually accompanied a really big casting. Guess being out of practice really made a difference, huh? "If you have any questions or anything, you can ask me later. If it's okay, I kinda need to go lie down now." With that, her legs began to give out. Good thing Spike was right there to hold her up.

"It's okay, pet. I'll get you there." With that, he picked her up, and against her weak protests, carried her out of Angel's room.

She was out cold before she even reached the bed.

To be continued…


	9. Chapter 9

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Nine)

When she woke up, Willow felt as if she had been hit by a truck and her mouth tasted like minty-fresh vomit, but Spike was beside her, gazing at her, and that made it all much better. "How long have you been with me?" she asked groggily.

"About twenty hours."

She'd been out that long? And he'd just stayed here? "Didn't you get hungry or anything?"

"One of Angel's gang brought me a couple of mugs of something. Wasn't leavin' ya." It suddenly hit her that he'd been worried and didn't want to say it. He knew she hated being treated like some fragile damsel.

"I'm okay, I promise." To add credibility to that statement, she sat up, but when Spike moved toward her as if to kiss her, she put her hand up to stop him.

He instantly looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

Okay, embarrassing much? "My breath. It's all icky."

"Love, I've shagged Harmony. I think your breath pales in comparison." And with that, he kissed her. She was so grateful it was just on the lips. Had tongues come into play… well, he might be thinking fondly of Harmony.

After the kiss, she excused herself and went to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth with maniacal thoroughness… twice. Once she no longer tasted the aftereffects of the spell, she emerged. She and Spike had stuff to talk about, so she kept her expression serious. "Do you remember feeling anything… weird during the spell last night?"

Spike's expression clouded slightly and his brow furrowed. "Thought it was supposed to feel that way."

"Well, yeah. I mean the fog and the room shaking and stuff was pretty much standard" – And you know? How bizarre was it that she could say that? And that it was true? – "But what I meant was the whole 'flesh knitting together' thing. Did you even feel that, by the way? Or was it just me?"

"Felt it. Like I said, thought it was part and parcel of the hocus pocus."

"Maybe…" she offered, trying to play it off. But she sounded way too uncertain, even to herself. No way was Spike buying it.

"It wasn't, was it." He wasn't asking… and she wasn't going to lie to him.

"No, I don't think so. It felt like something different." She knew there was a question he wanted to ask, but didn't, and she knew she had to tell him. One thing she'd learned the hard way was that keeping secrets was bad. "I felt the same thing with Angel's hand."

Spike didn't seem very pleased by that revelation. Sitting down beside him, Willow tried some damage control. "It's not like I feel anything strange or bad – except for the massive barfing. Do you?" He shook his head and Willow tried to feel encouraged. "I could have been wrong just now, you know. Maybe it really _was_ part of the spell and it was just a manifestation of the three of us joined to bring Connor back. It's probably nothing."

"Yeah. Bet you're right. You're the witch, after all." But he didn't believe her and she knew it. Heck, she didn't believe herself either. She just wished she knew what it meant.

"Who else is here?" she asked, desperate to change the subject.

"Some guy with a shaved head – think his name's Gunn, that Fred girl, and some green chap with horns and a suit so bloody awful it makes Angel look like the glass of fashion and the mold of form." Willow giggled at Spike's japery.

"C'mon, Angel's not that bad." Her mind drifted back to that night at the goth club and that tragic satin shirt. "Okay, not always," she amended.

"Love, he may be family, but he's nothing but a mess of hair gel and appallingly baggy trousers."

"He's gotten better," she argued, wondering why Spike cared so much about the fit of Angel's pants anyway. It brought her back to the way he'd reacted when he'd overheard her ask… Oh gosh. "You and Angel used to have a 'thing', huh?" she blurted out without thinking, instantly wishing she hadn't.

That sharp bark of laughter was familiar, and it rang with the discomfort Spike used it to hide. "Don't know if I'd call it that. I'm a vampire, love. We'll shag just about anything if we're bored and got nothin' else to do."

Willow knew better, at least when it came to Spike. Harmony, she knew well, was the exception and not the rule. She didn't call him on it, though, just letting the knowledge sink in and make so much sense out of the chaos and anger between Spike and Angel. What was it she'd told Xander so long ago when she'd walked in on and him and Cordelia? 'You two were fighting way too much.' She should have guessed that this situation was much the same. And hey – shouldn't her gaydar have worked better?

What should she say now, though?

When in doubt, joke. She'd learned that from Xander. Speaking of which… "So does that mean that you slept with Xander?"

The look of melodramatic horror on his face was priceless. "Bite your tongue!"

Giggling, she countered, "You said you'd shag anything."

"_Almost_ anything."

"Xander's better than Harmony."

"Says the girl who's never had to live with the bloody moron and his snoring and his pedestrian porn collection."

"You went through Xander's porn collection?"

"Stuck in that basement all bleedin' day? You're damn right! I went through every possession he had – and a sad lot of nothing that was. Comic books? Bloody hell! He had more of those than he did of Playboy. You might be right wondering if he'd shag another bloke, but he wasn't shaggin' me."

The very disturbing thought that Anya would probably enjoy seeing Xander do just that flashed across Willow's mind. Why had she gone off on this tangent in the first place? The days when imagining Xander naked had been enjoyable had long since passed.

Just then, there was an odd growl and it took Willow a moment to realize that it was coming from her – specifically her stomach. Guess it was missing everything it had lost a few hours ago. Spike realized the same thing. "I think we should get you down to the kitchen and see about fixing you a meal. I'm not the only one who has to eat around here."

Getting up, he held out his hand and she took as she joined him in standing and then heading out the door into the hotel. She was going to express surprise at Angel having food and then – duh – she remembered that Fred lived here and that humans spent a lot of time with Angel these days. It was very different than the way things were back in Sunnydale.

What was he like now? Did he talk about stuff? Make jokes? Ask people how their day was going? Remember their birthdays?

Why did she even care? She and Spike were probably going back to Sunnydale in a few hours and the next time they saw Angel would be because of some apocalypse or something – same old, same old.

Or maybe not. She and Spike – and yes, Spike was very much a part of this – had saved Angel's son. Okay, yes, she'd saved his _soul_ before and that had made no difference at all, but this time… yeah, maybe they could all be friends. Or something like that, anyway.

Then her mind went back to Spike and Angel's 'thing' and she wondered if Spike was okay with being friends with Angel at all. Would it be too difficult for him?

She'd think about all this later, after she'd eaten. Just the sight of the fridge had set her stomach growling again and she went rooting through its contents, desperate for something which didn't require complex preparation - or _any_ preparation for that matter. Yes! There was an apple! Perfect! Minor usage of teeth was all that was needed.

Spike was chuckling at her as she bit into the crispy red fruit and she realized she was making some odd noises – ones which would make someone listening outside the room suspect that something a lot more naked was going on in this kitchen. Sue her. She had just realigned dimensions. Her tummy needed refilling. Fast.

"Think I heard those same sounds recently. But ya weren't eating… an apple." Yeah, she was right about what she sounded like obviously. Oh goddess. She was blushing now, wasn't she? It didn't stop her from polishing off the apple in record time, though, despite the way Spike stared at her, licking his lips. "Got somethin' else I'd like you to work on with that mouth, pet." She glared at him, but said nothing. She was still too hungry to think about sex, so she headed back into the fridge in search of more food.

As she was rooting around, humming tunelessly, she heard someone else come into the kitchen so, with a pang, she stopped what she was doing and turned around. Spike had already greeted their visitor with a friendly 'hey', but when she turned around, the guy didn't look so friendly at all. Not because of the green face or the horns, but because he… just didn't look friendly. Which made no sense. She knew this guy. "Hi, Lorne," she caroled, hoping to jog his memory. They'd met when she'd shown up to tell everyone that Buffy had died.

He smiled, but even with his demonic features, she could tell it wasn't sincere and she didn't get it. Maybe he associated her with bad news. Now would be a good time to associate herself with some _good_ news. "Have you seen Connor? He's back now."

The smile transformed and Willow figured she had been right on the money. "Angelcakes told me you were the magician who whipped up the mojo for that." A second later, he hugged her, and Willow was sort of confused, but hey – at least he didn't seem annoyed with her anymore. Spike was also chuckling at 'Angelcakes' and Willow was pretty sure he'd be calling Angel that very soon. So all was well, right?

When the embrace ended, Willow expected Lorne to get himself some food or talk to them some more. She was wrong. "Well, cupcake, I better get along. See you around." With that, he headed out, muttering under his breath just as he was out the door.

Spike turned to her with a confused look on his face and asked, "What the hell was that all about? And what did he mean by it's not your fault?"

To be continued…


	10. Chapter 10

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Ten)

A few minutes of befuddled conversation and she and Spike finally decided that Lorne's muttered comment referred to the severed head he'd obviously heard about. Not all demons enjoyed blood and death the way her vampire boyfriend did – look at Clem.

"I still wish I hadn't killed him," Willow sighed, remembering the way Holtz's eyes had looked straight as her as his head had been ripped from his body by the closing of the portal.

Spike pulled her close. "Now, now, pet. Thought we'd already gotten it straight that you didn't kill that bloke. Killed himself, really, when ya think about it – mucking about with Quor'toth and kidnapping Angel's boy. He played a demon's game and he paid for it. Seems like balance is all."

It made sense, Spike's argument, but Willow was gun shy about any kind of absolution. After all, she could see herself in the mirror. If it looked like a bad witch and acted like a bad witch… But at least this time she hadn't hurt really good people like Buffy. Or Dawn.

Or Tara.

She sighed again, leaning against her love and finding herself feeling oddly averse to the idea of returning to Sunnydale. How silly was that? She'd done what she came here to do, she barely knew anyone here – besides Angel, anyway – and she was needed at home. It was time for them to go back, wasn't it?

"Guess we'll be heading off tonight," Spike said, echoing her thoughts. Was it her imagination or did he sound as ambivalent as she felt?

Not really sure what to do, she tentatively offered, "We haven't really had the chance to talk to Angel, you know, make peace like I said we were going to do."

Obviously, she'd said the right thing because Spike smiled slightly. "Wouldn't want to make a liar out of ya. Suppose we could stay another day. The town'll still be standing when we get back."

Spike took her hand and they headed upstairs to Angel's room, figuring he'd be there with his son. They were right. A knock on the door elicited a soft "Come in," and they saw Angel cradling his boy.

It tugged at Willow's heartstrings, the love that Angel so clearly felt for this tiny little being.

Funny – as much as Buffy had always talked in the past about having children, Willow herself had never considered the possibility, not even when she was with Oz. She wasn't thinking of it now, either, not for herself, but this was the first of her… well, she guessed she could call Angel a friend, and he was the first to have a child. Plus, well, even to a Hellmouth girl, the idea of a vampire having a baby was pretty unexpected and she was marveling at it. "He kind of looks like you." She'd said it without thinking, as a commonplace, but now that she really paid attention to the kid… you know, Connor really did sort of look like a mini Angel. It was strange. "Guess you guys are both doing okay," Willow added, understating the obvious.

Angel stared, his eyes boring into her. "Thank you," he said in a tone that invested those words with far more meaning than they usually held. Which made sense since retrieving his son was a lot more important than most favours she'd ever done for people. Plus, maybe he was doubling up since he'd never really thanked her for the whole 'returning his soul' thing.

You know, she seemed to be in the habit of returning lost and stolen stuff to him. It made her wish… but no, she'd never found a way to make his soul stay so that he and Buffy could be together.

Spike was looking everywhere but at Angel and the baby and Willow reached over and took his hand. She got it. He was remembering his mother, how much she'd loved and cared for him… and remembering how he'd returned that love by transforming her into a demon – and then into dust. And maybe a part of him was envying Connor for how much Angel loved him. Angel, who had been Spike's lover, but also – in a weird, demonic sense – his father.

The envy she could relate to, and too, the reminder of just how much the desire to hold onto any kind of love could lead you to do the most terrible of deeds with the purest of intentions. It had made her more dangerous than any foe they'd ever faced. It had led Spike to do something for which even a soulless demon couldn't forgive himself.

But love had given them both… Extraordinary thing, love. It was the basest and most insidious of temptations and the brightest and boldest of saviours.

"You're welcome," she suddenly said, realizing she'd become lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts and had neglected her manners.

Okay, now that the pleasantries were out of the way, and without a new crisis to discuss, Willow had no idea what to say. Suppose it was wing it or nothing. "So… uh… you cleaned up everything, huh?" She indicated where the circle – and the severed head – had been when she'd last been here.

"Yeah." To her surprise, Angel walked over to the crib in the corner and laid the baby in it. The boy cooed, but didn't cry when Angel left him there. "He needs some sleep," Angel said in a low voice, before guiding the two of them out of the room.

So – here they were. In the hallway. It was still awkward. Spike was the first to speak. "Never took you for the fatherly type before. You're not bad with the kid." Willow's heart ached at the hint of bitterness in his tone; she'd been right that envy was part of the mix of emotions her guy was feeling and she wished she could soothe it away.

Much to her surprise – and gratitude – Angel either ignored or didn't perceive the undercurrent and took the compliment straight. "Thanks," he said with an almost bashful shrug, his hand going to the back of his neck. Guess this was weird for him too. That only made it a better idea, she supposed, that she and Spike stay an extra day. There was too much history between all of them for things to stay so strained. It was time to… well, do something. Become friends, actual friends, maybe.

Before she could say anything, though, Spike got there ahead of her. "My girl and I thought maybe we'd stay here another day or so. Hell, you've got the room. We could use the break from Sunnydale and more bloody tales of connubial bliss from Xander's demon chit." Well, he hadn't characterized it the way she would have, but maybe it was better that he said it in _his_ words. She had a disturbing tendency to sound like something from one of her mother's lectures on 'open communication.' Memories of that intervention she'd led still made her gag with contempt at her own silliness and pretension.

Besides, the dig at Xander seemed to have struck a chord with Angel and he and Spike actually shared a chuckle. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want." It was clear that he meant it and the fact that he looked at Spike first when he said it… She was so glad of that. Spike deserved some recognition from his sire. It was a bond she realized he needed.

Was that what the feeling of flesh melding with flesh during the spell meant? Was it about Angel and Spike and was she just the conduit through which it passed?

"Are you hungry?" Angel asked out of the blue.

Willow shook her head and was about to tell him about the apple she'd eaten when Spike once again cut in ahead of her. "Yeah, she could stand a decent supper." She glared and he chided her. "Love, an apple is not a meal. Thought we'd discussed you eating proper food and not just snacking or eating that cheap garbage you lot order in." Okay, yes they had, but she didn't think this was the appropriate place or time to rehash that argument. Besides, pizza and Doritos had sustained her just fine up to now and she saw no need to alter her eating habits.

Angel, unfortunately, seemed to be siding with Spike. "I know a great restaurant. Musso and Frank's. They owe me a favour, so for once you'll eat something delivered that isn't pizza." She stared. "What?" he asked. "I remember what you ate." She was completely shocked until she figured out that 'you' probably translated to 'Buffy' and then it wasn't so bizarre.

"'bout time she ate something that didn't come out of a bloody microwave," Spike agreed and she felt ganged-up-on.

Then she felt guilty. Angel had said this was a great restaurant and implied that they didn't normally deliver. It had to be expensive. "I have money," she offered. The look Angel gave her made her feel guiltier than ever. He seemed… hurt.

"I'm paying." His voice was curt as he headed for the stairs and without turning back to look at them, he added, "I'll make the call. The food should be here in about an hour or so."

Spike put his arm around her waist and they followed him down to the lobby. She had never heard of Musso and Frank's. Obviously they weren't a chain or anything, at least not one she knew about. Should she say something about what she liked or just let Angel order?

"Umm… Angel?" she asked as they reached the phone, "What kind of food do they serve?"

To be continued…


	11. Chapter 11

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eleven)

Dinner had been a quiet affair and Willow sensed that her innocent offer to pay had really bugged Angel. The thing was, she didn't really get it. Okay, maybe a _little_ miffed she could understand, but he was brooding – actually _brooding_. "I'm going up to check on my son." With those words, and without giving Willow a chance to swallow her last bite of Chicken Provençale, Angel left her with Spike in the lobby and hurried back upstairs.

Once her mouth was no longer full, she turned to Spike and said, "He seems really mad. I'm gonna go apologize, okay?"

For a moment she almost thought he was going to object, though she didn't quite get why, but the closest he came to forbidding her was, "Hurry back or I'm gonna eat all the key lime pie." Still, his threat sounded half-hearted and not nearly as playful as usual and Willow was concerned.

Should she say something? Considering how badly she'd been doing with words in the past hour or so – and realizing that if she had any _good_ ones, she needed them to use on Angel – she decided against it, electing instead to give Spike a passionate, if brief, kiss.

Maybe she shouldn't have done that, since just this one kiss made her want to forget about the apology and drag Spike back to the room so they could catch up on all the sex that the necessities of magic had denied them the past few days. It would have to wait, though. If she was going to help Spike mend fences with Angel, it would help if she didn't leave her own in disrepair. "I'll be right back. Promise."

She climbed the quite ostentatious staircase and went straight to Angel's room and was about to knock when... Oh gosh. Was the baby asleep? More importantly, did he have super vamp hearing like his parents? All her questions were made moot when Angel opened the door. "Connor's asleep," he said softly, before she could even ask… a really stupid question. Of course he knew she was there. Super vamp senses. Duh.

"Can we talk?" she almost whispered.

Wheels turned behind his eyes – why, she still didn't understand – before he nodded, gently closing his door behind him as he guided her down the hall to another empty room. Guess that was one advantage to living in a hotel.

As soon as they were inside, she blurted out, "I'm sorry. I mean, I'm not sure what for since I was just trying to be nice, but it made you mad, so…" Her voice trailed off. Angel was staring. Just staring. It was unnerving and also not so easy to decipher what the heck he was thinking. Guess she really _didn't_ have any good words. Boy was she glad she hadn't said anything but the very basic stuff to Spike.

The silence lasted longer than she liked but she wasn't as good at babbling to fill the empty corners as she'd been once upon a time, and anyway, words had gotten her into this mess to begin with. She should probably be sparing with them now.

"I'm not angry." And you know? For a demon, Angel was a really crappy liar.

"Could have fooled me."

The fact that she hadn't bought his fib seemed to take him aback and she realized that he didn't know her – not anymore. To him, she was still the geek with the braids and the fluffy sweaters who got tongue-tied around boys. Oh, he knew _about_ the changes she'd gone through, but they hadn't pierced the armour of the image he still had of who she was.

"I might have been. I didn't…" His voice trailed off and he made some nervous gesture with his hand in his hair. The hand that had been part of hers for a second like an eternity.

If he was looking at her and seeing tenth grade nerd, she was looking at him in a completely different way. For the first time – or at least it felt that way – she wasn't seeing the Romeo to Buffy's Juliet. She was seeing Angel, just Angel, and yeah, he wasn't the same vampire she'd thought she'd known back in Sunnydale. She didn't know _who_ he was, really, but she knew he wasn't who he'd once been.

"The chicken was really good," she finally said, growing increasingly uncomfortable with her thoughts. Their eyes met and… She had no idea what it was she just felt, but she could see he felt it too and she was unnerved by that.

"Musso & Frank's is legendary. Charlie Chaplin ate there." His tone was superior and she guessed he wasn't over being the angry that he hadn't quite admitted to being.

"Oh." She had to admit that she was a bit cowed by how venerable the place was, but what was she supposed to say? Well, maybe this would help. "Sounds really, really swanky. Guess I should have realized that after trying that Chicken Provençale. I've never eaten anything like it before. I probably couldn't have afforded to pay after all." She'd been about to make some crack about it beating the chicken tenders at the Doublemeat, but she decided against it. Angel really didn't seem to be in the mood to appreciate jokes.

He did, however, seem to appreciate her admitting that the meal was out of her league, well sort of, anyway. "What you did merited something a bit classier than what you're used to."

Ouch. Nice dig at her still-teenage eating habits. It also hit the part of her that still resented the fact that her parents never took her with them when they went out to dinner. Not once. Which for reasons she couldn't begin to fathom, she suddenly admitted. "My parents never took me to any restaurants."

Maybe it hadn't been a bad idea since Angel now seemed a whole lot less superior – and less angry.

"Never?"

"No. They weren't really into the whole togetherness thing. It's okay though. It was always like that so it never bothered me." She smiled as she lied and hoped he bought it.

Naturally, he didn't. There was an odd look on his face – one part 'a-ha!' and another part concern mixed with a final something she couldn't name at all. "You've never been part of a family before, have you?"

Okay, that was sort of uncalled for. "I have Xander and Buffy and Dawn and Giles. They're as much my family as any blood relatives could be. And now I have Spike." That last was delivered with vehemence and conviction, because Spike was as much family to her as anyone had ever been. She loved him with everything she had and Angel needed to open his eyes and see Spike as something more than just an occasional adversary and a remnant of his soulless past. After all, the two of them really _were_ family.

It was right then that she realized that Angel's eyes had flickered when she said 'blood.' It was a startling reminder that, inside, he was more like Spike than he'd like to admit.

All the men she'd ever dated had been demons, hadn't they? Not that she'd ever dated… and why the heck had she even thought about that now?

Angel was staring at her again and she really, really wanted to leave, except – no, she didn't, and that was just… weird.

"Spike," Angel repeated back to her, and it irked her because she had a hunch what was next – and how many times was she going to have to deal with it? He had started this talk about blood. She was going to finish it.

""Look, Angel, I know you two have issues, but speaking of family – he's yours, you know? As much as Connor is. Don't you think it's time you gave him a chance?"

Angel seemed utterly taken aback by what she'd said, but at the same time, she could see something behind those brown eyes. "You really love him, don't you?"

Locking eyes with him, she answered with an emphatic "Yes."

His eyes flickered again and she wanted to look away, but she didn't. For a moment, she even thought he was about to touch her. "Maybe there's more of William left in him than I thought." With that, he abruptly walked out of the room, leaving Willow standing there in utter confusion.

What the heck had just happened?

To be continued…


	12. Chapter 12

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twelve)

Spike hadn't actually eaten all the key lime pie, which sort of shocked Willow once she took a bite because it was easily the most delicious dessert she'd ever eaten. So this was fine dining, huh? Maybe she was being childish, but between the elegant and tasty chicken and the outrageously delectable dessert she was madder at her parents now for leaving her at home every time they went to fancy restaurants. She'd never known food could be this good. The pie was gone almost before she realized it.

"Don't worry, pet. We'll be eatin' like this again."

Had he read her mind? Or did Spike just know her better than anyone ever had. "I love you."

He smiled. "I love you, too." After a short pause, he finally asked the question she'd honestly expected before now. "So how'd things go with the King of Brood up there?"

How to answer that. "Weird. I mean… yeah, weird." She didn't know what else to say. It wasn't as if she wanted to tell him about her plea for Angel to treat Spike more like family. If it happened, she knew it would be so much better if Spike believed it was spontaneous.

Spike really did know her because he was giving her that shrewd look, the one that said he knew there was stuff she wasn't saying. Sadly, she'd grown somewhat past the extreme babbling ways of her youth and it wouldn't work to try to hide herself in a torrent of words. Sometimes there was a downside to self-confidence and maturity. "He has some different ideas about family than me, that's all," she offered.

That sharp bark of laughter she'd heard when Spike had heard her discussing her bisexuality with Angel was back. "You don't know how different by half, pet." At first she was a bit nonplussed, but then she remembered the whole grandfather/mentor/lover thing with Angel and Spike and she blushed. Okay, yeah, maybe she should have phrased her observation slightly different because that wasn't quite what she meant.

Her expression turned serious. "He doesn't see Buffy and Xander and Dawn and Giles as my family," she clarified.

"He wouldn't," but Spike said it in a way that said he disagreed. "He's not much for human ties. Sure, he's got his little bunch of cohorts here, but what happened with that wannabe Watcher tells me there's not much trust goin' on between 'em."

Willow wanted to disagree, but then she remembered the way things were with Angel back in Sunnydale and she found it hard to fault Spike's observation. For all that Angel was the one with the soul, Spike was so much more… human.

Oh god. She was never, ever going to say that out loud.

It was true, though. Despite the fact that Spike's association with them had been born of necessity and been mired in mutual antipathy and distrust for a long time, he'd somehow become part of the group in a way Angel never had, not even before he lost his soul. Heck, Spike had tried to kill them all and he was still… and here she was, head over heels in love with him – and he with her, she knew that too.

Angel had once had Buffy, but that was it. Was he close to Gunn? Or Fred? Because obviously he and Wesley had issues that predated Connor's abduction. And then…

Wait a minute – where was… "Has Angel said anything to you about Cordelia?"

Spike's eyes widened. "No. But yeah, guess I never thought about it, but shouldn't that dim cheerleader have come around by now?"

Maybe she should have objected to Spike's characterization of Cordelia, seeing as how she'd been told her old nemesis had changed and grown since becoming a seer, but… yeah, high school memories died hard. Plus, that 'lesbo' remark still rankled. Lesbo? Really? Who said things like that? It was like Cordelia had learned bigotry from a seventies movie.

"Maybe she's on Wesley's side?" Willow hypothesized, wondering if Cordelia still had that icky crush. The memory still made her skin crawl.

"Angel's seer, though, isn't she?"

Willow had to admit he had a point there, which made Cordelia's absence puzzling. "We can ask Angel later," she said.

"Yeah. It can wait. Bint's a bloody annoyance anyway." He was looking at the staircase and then he looked back at her. "What do ya say we go upstairs and get some… rest?"

"Rest?" He was smirking at her, so she knew what he meant. Was I possible for any two people to be more on the same wavelength? Because it felt as if she and Spike hadn't made love in a year, and considering her weird and unnerving night – not to mention her lingering concerns about the spell – nothing seemed like a better idea than having naughty fun-times with her guy. "Sure thing. I could use some…sleep. Lots and lots of… sleep."

The smirk on Spike's face got even sexier and Willow wanted to rip his clothes off right here in the lobby. It was a crime for anybody to be that sexy… and she so wanted to be the one to punish him for it.

Within what seemed like seconds, she and Spike were back upstairs in their temporary quarters and there was no way she was spending tonight in her sexless sleepshirt. Spike had her clothes off before she could even blink and now, in between kisses, she was working the buttons on his jeans. "Have you considered zippers?" she panted, frustrated by how long this was taking.

He chuckled. "Anticipation's the best part."

She glowered at him. "_Par_ticipation would be better."

Obviously her argument swayed him because he helped her get those stupid buttons undone and she shoved his pants down his legs. He did the rest.

Now he was naked too and he was… gorgeous. Just gorgeous. The most perfect, beautiful creature she'd ever seen – male or female. Seeing him naked never got old and she had a feeling it never would and… No, he was never going to get old, was he?

Why did she have to think about this _now_? But she had and now it was in her head – the realization that every year would make her older while he stayed the same. Sooner or later, and no matter which it would be sooner than she could handle, he'd lose interest in her and want someone younger and more vibrant… more beautiful.

It didn't take him a second to realize her mood had darkened and he pulled her into his arms. She could feel his erection pressed against her and it only heightened her fear and premature sense of loss. "What's wrong, love?"

"You're always going to look like this," she choked out. "You're always going to be perfect."

She could feel him shake his head before he pulled back and led her to the bed where he guided her to sit before sitting beside her. "Been waiting for this to come up. 'Course your timing could have been better."

"Sorry."

"'S'okay. We've had worse buzzkills. I've dealt with your boy Xander walkin' in on us, after all." He was trying to lighten the mood, and the memory did bring a bit of a rueful smile, but it didn't change the truth, did it?

"I'm going to get old, Spike. I think that might be a way bigger buzzkill than Xander."

He sighed heavily and shook his head. "What am I gonna do with you?" A minute ago, Willow would have had some very racy answers to that question. Not now. He took her hand and locked eyes with her. "Not gonna lie. I'm right fond of that body of yours and that pretty face, but that's not gonna change just because you do. I'm in love with you, and that's for keeps. When your arse is flat as a pancake and your face is as wrinkled as the poof's forehead in full brood? I'll love ya just as much and I'll make love to ya just as often. You're mine and that's more sure than any vows anyone's ever made in any church."

Willow's eyes were swimming with tears. She wanted to believe, but… "You're not just saying that?"

He moved the hand he was holding and put it over his heart. "I know you can't feel it, but there's a heartbeat there – yours. Only one I've had since the day I was turned and I never want to be without it. I'm gonna be with you to the end, love. You're stuck with me."

Even through her tears, she could see the truth in his eyes. Had there ever been a woman as lucky as she was? She was pretty sure the answer to that was 'no.' Taking her hand out of his, she took his face between both palms and kissed him. "I love you, Spike."

"Love ya, too." They stayed like this for a moment, silent, and then he asked, "Any chance we could get back to what we were doing?"

No one had ever had a better idea. Willow kissed him again with every bit of the love and passion and gratitude she felt and they were prone in no time, hands roaming over bodies, relearning each other, Willow finding odd imperfections beneath her palms – like a dimple in one hip that might have been a scar long ago. She thought maybe that was her favorite part of him now and she moved down his body to kiss it. Did he just giggle? Oh god, she made Spike giggle. She looked up at him, feeling like her heart would burst with the joy of this new side of him she'd just found. It wasn't possible to love him more than she already did, but somehow her love grew anyway.

She wanted to give – just give – so instead of moving back up his body, she took him in her mouth, savoring the taste of him as she slid her mouth down slowly, hearing him hiss with pleasure. She looked up at him again, her eyes full of mischief and promises.

This was going to be a long night – in all the best ways.

To be continued…


	13. Chapter 13

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Thirteen)

Willow stretched, smiling even as the occasional twinge reminded her that she really needed to be doing more yoga to improve her flexibility. Sex with Spike was kind of an athletic event –not that she minded. Oh no, she thought, remembering their recent antics, she didn't mind at all.

The sound of the shower told her where Spike was right now. Should she join him? Despite the hints of soreness in her muscles, she decided to throw caution, and any reservations she might have about getting naughty in that tiny shower, to the wind.

She was already naked, so she just climbed out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Spike was behind a thin, plastic shower curtain and she could see the outline of his body through it.

Yum.

"Still plenty of hot water, love," he offered from underneath the spray.

Sounded like an invitation to her, so she quickly hopped into the shower. He was right; the water was nice and hot – but nowhere near as hot as the guy she was sharing it with. When he pulled her against him and kissed her, she wondered if the steam was from the shower at all. Her hand drifted down of its own accord, finding its way to Spike's cock. He hissed as she began to stroke him, his mouth leaving hers. "You're gonna kill me."

"Kinda good that you're already dead then, huh?"

"Cheeky."

She turned and stuck her butt out and he swatted it. Ooh. That was sort of… you know, they might just need to try spanking, but for now… she returned her attention to his cock, taking it in hand again, stroking it to full hardness. Wonder what he was going to do with it now?

It wasn't long at all before she found out. A second later he had her face against the shower wall, spreading her legs, positioning her and… "Oh," she cried as he slid inside her in one quick, smooth motion. He'd surprised her, not that it was a bad thing – quite the opposite. Still, she hadn't expected it to be this hard and fast and she couldn't keep from crying out with each thrust. "Spike… oh god…Spike."

Well, what it lacked in eloquence, it made up for in sincerity – and a whole lot of ecstasy.

All the while, he was growing in her ear, "Yeah, baby. Tell me how much you want it," which she kinda thought she was already doing.

He kept driving into her and just as she screamed his name one last time, he cried out hers as well and she felt his release inside her as she came.

If he hadn't been holding her up, she'd have slid down the shower wall to the floor. Wow. That was… Oh no. As he slid out of her, she turned around. "We were kind of too loud, huh?"

Spike chuckled. "I liked it. That's all that matters."

"What if we woke up the baby?"

Obviously, Spike hadn't thought of that. "We'll buy him a teddy or something to make up for it," he offered as he turned off the now-cooling water.

Willow reddened as another thought occurred to her. "What if _Angel_ heard us?" The look on Spike's face when she said it… "You wanted him to hear us, didn't you?" She turned her best accusatory expression on him, daring him to lie.

"Poor bastard needs _some_ entertainment," he said with a shrug, but he wouldn't meet her eyes.

There was something else going on here and she wished she understood what it was. The history between Spike and Angel was so complicated and Willow realized that it was something that needed to be dealt with, even if it meant risking the happiness she had found with the man – vampire – she loved. "Do you want him to be jealous of me? To wish he was still with you?" Her voice trembled as she asked a question she was afraid to hear answered. "Do you wish you were still with him?"

Scarcely had she finished her question before Spike pulled her into a passionate, searing kiss. "Don't you ever doubt this," he chided her. "I wouldn't trade you for anyone, you hear me? Not anyone. Not Angelus or Angel – whichever one he is this week - that's for sure." Now his eyes were locked on hers. "I love you. More than anyone in life or unlife. Believe that."

Her own eyes were full of tears. "I just… "

Pulling her close, he said, "It's complicated, I know, and I'm asking a lot – for you to wade into this mess, being the lover of a vampire. I know that expecting you to trust me… it's bloody ridiculous. But…"

"I do trust you, Spike. Please don't think I don't."

"I know." He kissed her forehead. "And that's almost as ridiculous as the fact that… you can." He chuckled again. "Fine demon I've turned out to be."

"I think you're a very fine demon."

This time the chuckle rumbled through his whole body. "Yeah. But you're a bit of a goody two shoes, so…"

Really? "Umm… goody two shoes?" How quickly he forgot.

"You made mistakes, pet, but you felt guilty and wrong deep down all the while. Your goddess forgave you, didn't she? Proves you're a good girl in spite of it all."

His reasoning was seductive, though she still had a hard time seeing herself as good – especially after what she'd done to Tara. Still… maybe there was goodness in her, or at least the ability to get there. Goddess knew she was trying. "Okay," she said, trying to agree with him.

"You don't believe me," he chided.

"I want to. It's just…"

"You're too human to know the difference between doing bad and being bad."

Human. The word rang in her head and again this brought up the unbridgeable gap. Yes, he'd reassured her earlier and she believed him… but what about _her_? How was she going to feel when she was fifty… sixty… and her lover was frozen in youth? What would it be like when waitresses and salesclerks started assuming he was her son… her _grand_son? How would she feel when fragile bones restricted their lovemaking to a tepid mockery of the athletic romps they currently enjoyed?

She began to shiver. "We should probably get out of the shower, huh?"

He got out first and guided her out, solicitous as always and eager to make sure she didn't slip on the damp floor. His thoughtfulness and concern were two of her favorite things about him and that just made it all the harder… imagining what it would be like when he was terrified she'd break a hip. Would she grow to hate his solicitude?

"You think too much," he chided, sensing her pensive state, and a memory from long ago made her giggle. "What's so funny?"

"Xander said the same thing." That brought a smack from a towel across her butt and she yelped. "What was that for?"

"Comparing me to Demon Girl's house pet."

She giggled again but then forced her features into a serious expression. "I promise that's the only thing you have in common," she offered in a placating tone.

"Damn right it is."

She dried herself off and then headed out into the bedroom in search of clothes. She'd just put on a bra and panties when it occurred to her that…"I should dry my hair," she sighed just as she was about to put on her jeans and t-shirt.

"You do that. I'll head down and make myself some breakfast. Want me to bring something back up for you?"

"Nah. I'll meet you down there."

He seemed almost disappointed, but Willow figured they should refrain from noisy activity for a while. Besides, she was still melancholy from those thoughts she'd had and she needed to snap out of them. Maybe getting out for a bit would help. She'd think about it and then talk to Spike in a few minutes. "Go drink your breakfast," she instructed, and dressing in a trice, he followed her orders. With a quick kiss and a "See you downstairs, love. Don't be long," he was out the door.

So here she was – alone with those thinky thoughts. Hopefully, the noise from the blow dryer would clear her head.

To be continued…


	14. Chapter 14

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fourteen)

The blow dryer and a few minutes alone had helped Willow at least shove her troubling thoughts to the back of her mind for now, so here she was – headed for the kitchen and the breakfast her stomach was currently telling her she desperately needed. Spike seemed to make her a whole lot hungrier than she'd usually been in the past.

Just as she was about to enter the kitchen, the sound of voices stopped her. Spike was in there… and so was Angel.

"You haven't changed, Spike."

"Guess that means you heard the show after all. Liar."

Okay, she'd apparently arrived in the middle of a conversation – and Angel had obviously tried to deny hearing what she and Spike had just done. She held her breath and kept listening.

"What game are you playing?" She could almost hear Angel grinding his teeth and she unconsciously got into battle stance, ready to spring into action if there was a threat to her guy.

"Just gave my girl a good seein'-to, that's all."

"And it's an accident that I heard every moan and scream?"

"Not my fault you've got those nasty, voyeuristic tendencies. What's the matter, Angelus? Mad that this time I got the girl first? And the best one of the lot at that? "

What followed was the sound of someone being pushed against… the wall? Cabinets? Okay, now was the time to stop eavesdropping and start… dropping in. She burst into the room and saw two vampires in game face – and Angel had his hand around Spike's throat as he was against the wall. "Hey! Stop that!" What her words lacked in threat value – she really needed to work on that – she more than compensated for with the crackle of magical energy she could feel emanating from her. It sure had an effect on Angel, who did just as she asked in a trice.

Spike was smirking as if he'd won, but Willow could feel the tension and she knew that what she'd overheard wasn't the entirety of the reason for this fight, but what she'd been privy to had left her with numberless questions and resurrected her insecurities full force.

What had Spike meant by 'this time I got the girl first'?

Now wasn't the time to ask, though; she didn't want to deal with this in front of Angel. So instead she got back to glaring and admonished them both. "I thought we were all going to get along!"

"He started it," Spike mumbled, sounding remarkably like a toddler. Willow's first impulse, insecurity and curiosity aside, was to stand by her man all the way, but she really did _not_ want to turn this into a two against one situation. She needed to be Switzerland.

"I'm finishing it," she said with authority, realizing she sounded exactly like Joyce. It gave her a pang. She missed Joyce so much. Buffy's mother had been more of a mother to Willow than her own had ever been. More sadness to push to the back of her mind for now.

Just then, Gunn came in. His tone and manner were guarded and cautious even as he tried to seem casual. "Hey, Spike. Just the guy I was looking for. You were gonna show me some fighting tactics today, remember?"

This was the first Willow had heard of anything like that and she shot a questioning glance at Spike, who shrugged and offered sheepishly, "Might have said something like that while you were sleeping off all the magics."

She stifled a sigh, realizing that it might just be good for him to work off some tension with Gunn. At least the chip would keep him from hurting the man. "You guys go do that, then. I was going to go run some errands today anyway." She could get something to eat while she was out as well. Boy was she ever hungry.

Spike's answer was to pull her into a passionate kiss, one so steamy that she could hear Gunn clearing his throat, obviously a bit uncomfortable witnessing the display. He could join the club because she was a little uncomfortable _being_ displayed. Her lover was a demon, though, and she knew that there were times when she had to allow him to act like one. Demonstrations of ownership, for instance. Her feminist mother would have a fit… but since it was unlikely she'd ever meet Spike, Willow decided there wasn't much reason to worry.

The kiss ended and Spike gave her a hug. "Be careful," he admonished, then he shot an angry glare at Angel before heading out of the room with Gunn, who didn't look at her at all as he passed.

Willow had every intention of following Spike's lead and going straight upstairs to get her purse and then go out to grab some lunch, check out Pan Pipes again, and see a few other places around town, but… She had questions and something in her pushed her to ask Angel for his answers before she posed those same queries to Spike. Because she'd thought the tension between the two vampires was all about Angel and Spike's one-time relationship, but the argument hadn't seemed to be about that, so…

"What's going on between you and Spike?"

Angel seemed taken aback by her directness, but she'd come a long way since the days when she'd been afraid Angel would bite her if she said something he didn't like. One thing from the past she _had_ hung onto, though, was her Resolve Face. It might not be magic in the strictest sense, but it was not without power. She turned it full force on Angel and she waited, watching as his expression went through changes… the last of which was the slight flash of gold in his eyes before his mien became inscrutable.

Was she intimidated? Yes. Was she going to admit it? No. "I asked you about what's going on between you and Spike."

"Shouldn't you ask him?"

Well, yes, and she was going to, but… "I'm asking _you_."

His eyes were hooded and shadowed and Willow still couldn't read them. Gone was the softness she saw when he cradled his son. Instead she was faced with a demon of far greater complexity and mystery than ever Angelus had possessed. You know, between her troubles with magic and the brand new world she found herself in thanks to her lover, maybe it was time for her to learn to look before she leapt.

Seconds passed and, weirdly, she could almost _hear_ the silence in the room, but then – finally – Angel spoke. "It's not that complicated. I know you heard most of what we said. Drusilla was mine first…"

"And so was Buffy," Willow mumbled without thinking. Oh goddess no. The look on Angel's face told her he'd heard her… and that, no, Spike hadn't shared the news. Was there some way she could spin her remark so that it didn't mean what it sounded like… what it actually _did_ mean?

"Spike and… Buffy?" Angel asked, his voice alarmingly calm and even.

Okay. Damage control. Damage control. Oh god. She was babbling in her head. Hadn't she outgrown this? "Um… Spike sort of had a crush in her… just a little one. It was a while ago. Before Buffy even died. It was no big deal." Was that convincing to Angel? Because Willow was having flashbacks to the way she used to act while caffeinated.

"They slept together," he contradicted, in that same eerily calm voice.

"Uh… well," she was wilting under the steadiness of Angel's gaze, "I guess… sort of." How had this turned around so fast? She was supposed to be grilling _him_.

His gaze had now transformed into a shovel, trying to dig up the story buried behind what she hoped were guileless and unrevealing green eyes.

He shrugged and, with a smirk that chilled her, said, "She's a Slayer. No normal man can give her what she needs." His tone was dismissive… of Buffy _and_ Spike.

About to say something else, though she wasn't sure what, Willow's tongue was halted in its tracks by a voice from the lobby – one she had been wondering about. "Hey? Where is everybody? We're back!"

It was Cordelia.

What did she mean by 'we'?

To be continued…


	15. Chapter 15

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Fifteen)

Well, Angel gestured for her to leave the room first, so Willow led the way out of the kitchen and into the lobby, where Cordelia stood, looking like an ad for some sort of all-American product, sporting short hair and a smile with even whiter teeth than Willow remembered. She wasn't alone. Next to her stood an unfamiliar, wholesomely handsome-looking man. He reminded her oddly of Riley, except around the eyes.

Of course, Cordelia's cheery expression changed a bit when she saw who was the first to greet her. "Willow. What are you doing here?"

Hadn't Angel told her? Better to go with the short version since the last long conversation Willow had had with Cordelia had ended up with her being called a 'lesbo.' Not her favorite memory ever. "Rescuing Connor." What it lacked in detail it made up for in accuracy and it got the point across, right?

Apparently not. Cordelia suddenly looked panicked. "Connor? Something happened to Connor?"

"He's fine, Cordelia." Angel to the rescue – the very stern rescue.

"What happened?" She was staring daggers at Willow – which made no sense, but whatever.

Angel took over. "Thanks to Wesley, Connor was kidnapped and taken to a hell dimension, but Willow got him back."

"Oh." Cordelia sagged against the silent beefcake by her side before turning back to Willow and saying, "Well, thanks."

"Welcome back, princess!" Lorne caroled from the staircase, seeming ecstatic to see Cordelia. He was cradling Connor. "Look who's here to welcome you home."

He rushed into the room, smile as wide as the one Cordelia had been wearing, bearing the baby like a gift – one he was about to bestow on Cordelia… until Angel intercepted it. "Thank you," he said to Lorne. His tone wasn't sarcastic, but he was about as sincere as the inscription Willow had left in Harmony's yearbook. Once again, she felt lost without a map because there was stuff going on here that she did not understand at all. Why couldn't life be like school? Well, not all of school – the social stuff was not any more her forte than what was going on here in the lobby - but the classroom part because then she would be totally ahead of the curve.

What happened next left her more flummoxed than ever. Angel handed his son to her.

Huh? Oh god. She was holding Connor. How long had it been since she'd held a baby? Uh… okay. It had been her cousin Fran's baby and her Mom had stopped speaking to Fran… had it really been that long? Yes, it had. Goddess this was weird. Was she even doing this right? Holding his head? Check. Plus, Angel wasn't getting ready to rip her throat out, which, considering how he felt about his son…

You know, this wasn't so bad. It didn't make her want kids of her own or anything, but she could fill the 'Courtesy Aunt' role pretty nicely, she figured. Connor was even smiling at her and making happy little sounds. Good for you, Tante Willow.

Unfortunately, while Angel seemed just fine, Cordelia was glaring daggers at her… and so was Lorne. While the first made sense, what the heck had she ever done to Lorne? She barely knew him. Did he hate witches or something? Because, seriously? He was green. With horns. Shouldn't tolerance of his fellow otherworldly types sort of come with that package?

Luckily, her stomach decided to do her a huge favour by growling loudly. "Sorry," she offered, ducking her head in surprisingly insincere embarrassment, "guess I'm kinda hungry." She handed Connor back to Angel. "I'm gonna go get my purse and then grab some lunch and run some errands. Nice seeing you again, Cordelia." With that, she hurried upstairs. Phew! What the heck was going on?

She'd found the fire stairs and left the building out the back, thus managing to avoid any more contact with Cordelia – or Lorne. Who the heck was the tall, silent type who'd been with Cordelia, by the way? Guess she'd find out later. Maybe Spike would find out for her.

Maybe they needed to leave.

When she got back to the hotel, she was definitely going to have a talk with Spike. Things had seemed to be going well right after the spell, but now… now the tension was just a little too much for her and she knew that after this morning's confrontation he'd agree. They could figure out what the heck that melding feeling during the spell meant just as well back in Sunnydale. They just needed to go home.

As hungry as she was, she wound up driving around aimlessly for awhile. Finally, deciding to try something new, she drove through an In 'n Out burger and got a Double Double, an order of fries, and a large Coke, then parked to eat in the car rather than going inside and braving the thronged dining area in the probably vain hope that she could find a free seat.

The burger was messy, and required a bit of legerdemain to eat without losing its contents all over the front seat, but it was definitely delicious – very delicious. Sure explained, and justified, the crowd. They needed one of these In 'n Out places in Sunnydale.

Well, after this meal, she wouldn't be hungry until dinnertime… or even later. Time to head for Pan Pipes. Turning the key in the ignition, she prepared to pull out of the parking lot - but the car did not cooperate. It didn't even start. She turned the key again. Nothing… just… nothing.

Oh great. What was she going to do?

For a moment, she considered… but no. That wasn't what the goddess intended when she'd given permission for Willow to use magic again. Was she tempted anyway? She'd be lying if she said she wasn't, but she took a deep, calming breath and let go. This wasn't what magic was for. Thousands of people dealt with mechanical failure every day with no magic to draw on whatsoever and they managed just fine. Now she just had to figure out how to be one of them.

She could open the hood like she always saw guys do, but, let's face it, she knew absolutely nothing about car engines. Her parents probably had an Auto Club membership, but since they hadn't actually given her permission to use their car… Oh goddess! What if they came home and…?

No, no. That wasn't going to happen. They were in Israel. She'd gotten an email from them yesterday telling her they'd be there for at least another month. They were considering buying a place in Tel Aviv. A second home, they called it, but Willow wasn't fooled by the euphemism. If they bought that apartment, she'd probably never see her parents again.

Great. Like she really needed to get weepy and mopey right now.

Think, Willow, what should you do? Just then, she saw a guy in the parking lot holding a cell phone. Putting her feminist cred away and hoping Spike never found out she was about to do something that could be considered flirting, she got out of the car and smiled… and then saw another man approach the one she'd been about to flirt with and kiss him lightly – right on the lips. Okay, at least she hadn't embarrassed herself by flirting with this guy. But was it too much to ask for some repair to be done on her gaydar?

She walked up to the pair, still smiling, and asked, "My car just broke down and I don't have a cell phone. Could I use yours to call my friend and see if he can send a mechanic or a tow truck or something?"

"Sure thing, sweetie." Gosh did he sound nice, and he _was_ nice since he immediately handed her the phone.

"Thank you so much!" Willow quickly dialed Angel's number, hoping that she didn't get… "Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless." Oh goody. It was Cordelia. "Hey. It's Willow. Could I talk to Angel?"

"Sure." Same word the nice man with the phone had used but boy was the tone different. Still, she was put on hold, not hung up on, and a moment later, Angel was on the line.

"Willow?"

"Hi. I… umm… my car broke down and I'm not sure what to do."

For a moment, she thought he was going to ask about magic, but maybe he remembered, or maybe he just figured she was in public and really couldn't talk about that, so instead he just asked, "Where are you?"

Taking a quick look at the street signs, she answered, "I'm at the In 'n Out Burger on the corner of Sunset and Orange."

"Sit tight. Someone will be there in a few minutes." He paused and then added, oddly, "I promise." Then the line went dead. Nice manners with the non-goodbye there, but she couldn't really complain since he _had_ promised to send someone.

She noticed the little red 'End' button and pushed it, then handed the phone back to the man who'd loaned it to her. "Thanks so much. You totally saved my life."

"No problem, toots," the other man said. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Oh yeah. My friend's sending someone to pick me up. I'll be fine. Thanks again."

"Bye then." They gave her a little wave and then headed towards a very new and very shiny Mercedes convertible. She headed back to her parents' Honda. Time to wait for the cavalry.

As she got back into the car, she suddenly realized that, for at least as long as it took to fix whatever was wrong with it, she and Spike were going to be stuck in L.A.

Oh no.

To be continued…


	16. Chapter 16

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Sixteen)

The truck was a strong and serviceable vehicle, but it seemed sort of incongruous for Gunn, Willow thought. He seemed like more the 'fast car' kind of guy, although considering the fact that she barely knew him, it wasn't like she had much on which to base her opinion. Anyway, what did she know about cars even if she had known Gunn well? Since Oz, had she even known anyone besides Giles who had a car of their own? Spike didn't even have the DeSoto anymore.

Her thoughts were spinning around in pointless circles and she knew why – she didn't want to think about being stuck here in Los Angeles. Or about how long it was going to take or how much it was going to cost at that alarmingly busy repair shop to get her parents' car fixed.

"Thanks," she said to the man silently driving the truck, figuring maybe she should try and start a conversation. "I really appreciate you coming to get me like this."

"No problem." He was assessing her, she could tell. What was it with everyone here? It wasn't like she and Spike were moving in, and hey! She'd just saved Connor. Couldn't anyone just try and like her?

Maybe some friendly chitchat would help. "How was the sparring session with Spike?"

"Pretty good. Your boyfriend's got some nice moves. Knows how to fight dirty, that's for sure. Think he taught me some good tricks."

Willow chuckled. "Yeah, that's Spike. Even Buffy says he's the toughest she's ever fought."

Gunn turned his head briefly to look at her before fixing his eyes back on the road. "That Buffy's something, too, isn't she? Died twice and she's still here." He paused. "You brought her back, didn't you? That's what Angel said."

A shudder passed through her for a moment. That, after all, had been an act not without consequences. As happy as she was that Buffy was alive, she knew Buffy hadn't always shared that joy – nor had the goddess. That act had opened a door within her which had led to some truly arrogant and terrible misdeeds as well. She had so far to go to begin to atone. "I did," she agreed.

"That's some amazing mojo you've got. Thanks, by the way. Connor being back… you did a good thing."

"You don't have to thank me. I… It's what I'm supposed to do."

He shot her the strangest look. "Anyone ever tell you that you're a lot like Angel?"

Huh? "No," she said, and that was as honest as the day was long.

Gunn gave a short laugh, but he didn't argue the point. "Here we are," he said, as he pulled into a space and parked behind the hotel.

They each got out and… Oh gosh. She could have asked him… but hey, there was still time. "Who's that guy who was with Cordelia?"

"Groo."

"Groo?" Something clicked in her head when she connected the name with his not-quite-right eyes. "He's not human, is he?"

"Half-human. He's from Pylea."

Oh, that was where Lorne was from, wasn't it? "Cool," she said with a shrug. Not like she had a problem with human/demon relationships.

Gunn was still standing by the truck so Willow stayed put as well. Then he asked her a question that probably didn't surprise her, except it sort of did. "So how'd you end up with a vampire?"

Boy was that ever the sixty-four thousand dollar question. She decided to go with the short short version. "My first boyfriend was a werewolf, my girlfriend was a witch… I'm a witch, too, so…" Then she added, "Plus, Spike is the most wonderful person I've ever known. Without him… I don't know where I'd be." Wasn't that an understatement.

"He doesn't have a soul, does he?"

She shook her head. "No."

"So if that chip shorts out…"

Willow saw where this was going. "If the chip shorts out, he won't be any different than he is now. If Spike really wanted to hurt humans, he'd have found a way, even with the chip. He is who he is by choice." The glare she added promised agonizing death if Gunn even _thought_ about staking her guy.

Guess the glare worked because Gunn locked eyes with her. "Fair enough." She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes and she wondered…

"You knew about vampires, didn't you? Before Angel, I mean."

"Been fightin' them since I was a kid."

"Me, too."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I learned they existed the day Buffy came to town. My best friend…" Willow stopped and took a deep breath. "My best friend Jesse was turned. Darla did it. Then my friend Xander… he had to stake him."

There was a flash of darkness behind Gunn's eyes. "My sister," he said, in a low, tight voice. "I staked her."

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry." Reaching out, she put her hand on Gunn's arm. "The stuff everyone says, like 'it wasn't really her', that never makes it better."

"No."

Without questioning whether the offer would even be welcome, she said, "If you ever need to talk… I mean, I kinda know what it's like and…" He was silent for a moment and she wondered: Had she offended him? She was practically a stranger.

Finally, he answered. The word was short and tight, but he wasn't offended. "Thanks." He put his hand over the one still resting on his arm.

A moment later, the contact ended and, by unspoken agreement, they headed into the Hyperion, Willow hoping against hope that Lorne and Cordelia were nowhere to be found.

On a day when her car had gone into cardiac arrest, should she really have expected luck? Because right there in the lobby was one of the people she least wanted to see – and that someone was fighting with Angel in a voice high with annoyance, her manicured hands making angry gestures. "I just want to take him for a walk. He needs fresh air, okay?"

"And I said you're not taking my son out there where he could get kidnapped or killed!"

"But Groo…"

"Hey, guys," Willow caroled, hoping she could at least relieve the tension. It was already making her twitch. She hated arguments.

Spike had been standing on, well, the sidelines, and he was with her in the blink of an eye, pulling her into his arms. "You all right, love?" Before she could answer, he addressed Gunn. "Thanks for going and getting' her."

"No problem."

"I'm fine," she interjected. "We followed the tow truck to the mechanic's. I'm supposed to call them tomorrow after they've had a chance to check out the car and see what's wrong with it." She sighed. "I wish it had waited to break down until we were home."

"Can't you guys just rent another car?" And Cordelia was heard from again. Angel glared at her.

"It's my parents' car. We can't just leave it here in L.A." Spike kissed her cheek and she smiled at him. It didn't reach her eyes though. After all, a part of her wanted to leave just as much as Cordelia wanted her gone.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need," Angel said firmly, glaring again at his… seer. Gosh was it weird to think of Cordelia having visions of anything that didn't involve Gucci or Prada.

"Thanks," Spike replied, getting into a bit of a staring contest with Angel. No, this morning's fight had not been forgotten. Oh goody. Tension. Willow's very favorite thing in the whole world. She almost trembled as she thought about why she'd tried that Tabula Rasa spell. Had she mentioned how much she hated tension and fights?

Luckily – and could she just say how grateful she was that luck finally seemed to have returned to the fold? – Fred came out of the office. "Guys," she was clearly speaking to Angel, Gunn, and Cordelia, "we still have some clients who want to talk to you."

And again, she needed to learn not to count her lucky eggs before they hatched. Because Angel pushed a baby carriage to her and said, "Would you mind taking my son for a walk while I talk to these clients?"

She nodded in agreement. But if looks could maim? The one from Cordelia would have insured she wouldn't have the legs to leave the hotel. "But…"

"She's a witch, Cordelia. Connor's completely safe with her." Angel's tone was almost scary and there wasn't any further argument… not even from Willow.

Or Spike.

"See you in a little bit," Willow said to her boyfriend.

"That you will, love."

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the look he gave Cordelia. Because it confirmed what she'd told Gunn… if he wanted to hurt a particular human, he'd figure out how to do it. Feeling immeasurably safer, she pushed the carriage out of the hotel and into the afternoon sunlight.

When had she become a nanny?

To be continued…


	17. Chapter 17

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Seventeen)

"A Skench? Really?" Willow had to admit she'd never heard of that species.

Spike shuddered. "Ugly buggers. Nasty phlegm. Stuff's even worse than Fyarl mucus."

Finally alone with her guy and what were they doing? Discussing the icky demon Gunn and Fred were out (hopefully) slaying. Which was actually not what they most needed to discuss.

It seemed like they were always being interrupted by something, so she just blurted it out: "Angel knows."

Spike seemed totally confused. "What? What are you talking about?"

"He knows. About you and Buffy."

"How…?" He didn't seem too happy and Willow became very nervous.

"I kind of, sort of thought you had probably said something already and so I sort of said something and he kind of… figured it out." Oh god. She wasn't in the habit of babbling anymore. It felt strange – and not in a good way.

But then Spike pulled her into a close embrace. "'S'okay, love. Probably best if you don't tell Buffy, though. Don't think she'd be too pleased about Angelus knowing her secrets."

It didn't escape Willow's notice that Spike was using the name of Angel's soulless counterpart again. Not surprising, she supposed, considering that confrontation in the kitchen. "I'm guessing you guys didn't talk while I was gone."

She could feel the shake of Spike's head. "Not bloody likely," but he sounded sad as he said it, not his usual airy sarcasm.

"I keep trying to tell him how wonderful you are."

He kissed the top of her head. "Thanks for that." He still sounded dispirited though and Willow wondered about that. Or maybe she shouldn't. After all, she still wanted her parents to love her.

"Sorry about the car," she offered. "I'd been thinking we'd go home tonight, but now…"

"Not your fault, pet." He sighed softly. "Can't say I wasn't hoping we'd be leaving." Despite the words, though, Spike's tone was far less certain than her own had been and she was sensing that same strange ambivalence.

Again, she wondered about the spell, but she said nothing about it. "Well, on the plus side, maybe I'll get to eat at In 'n Out again." That _was_ a plus, too.

Spike chuckled. "A hamburger makes this all better?"

"Well, no, but… I'm trying to look on the bright side."

"That's what I love about you."

Just when it looked like they were about to close the door to their room and have a lovely, and very welcome, romantic moment, the sound of arguing drifted up from downstairs.

"What do you mean Wesley's in the hospital?"

Oh great. You know, the least Angel could do was keep his employees updated.

"Thought the cheerleader was supposed to have turned into a seer or something. You'd think she'd already have the lowdown about what was going on without needing to be told. That Miss Cleo on the telly would have known."

Willow giggled, but she pointed out, "Being a seer isn't really like that. She gets the visions she gets. It's not like she can just look in a crystal ball and see what everyone's doing whenever she likes."

"Not much use then, is she?"

It was obvious that the argument downstairs had moved out of the lobby because, while voices could be heard, Willow could no longer make out what was being said. "We better get downstairs and see what's going on before someone gets killed."

Spike rolled his eyes, then said, "It'd be just like Angel to make me clean up cheerleader blood at that."

Her guy. There was no one like him. But there was a look in his eyes… Oh gosh, there was a memory attached to that offhand quip. It seemed to be an oddly nostalgic one, if her interpretations of his expressions were accurate, and she realized she'd been noticing that more and more since they got here.

He missed having his sire, she already knew that, but now… now there was a specificity to his feelings and she realized that, for all his bluster and sarcasm, Spike missed _Angel_. Guess that explained the heightened tension and this morning's nasty fight. No one knew better than she did that Spike's way of dealing with vulnerability was to lash out. He'd done it to _her_ more than once.

Once again marveling at her ability to entangled in deep thoughts at the worst possible moment, she headed down the stairs, Spike by her side, and made her way to the office – where Angel was standing glowering guard over a box of what looked like personal belongings. Wesley's, she'd guess.

"He's not welcome here."

"I get that, okay? I just…"

Much to Willow's – and Angel's – shock, Spike put both boots into the argument. "He sent your boss's pup off to a Hell dimension, in case you forgot. Oh wait. You didn't even know. Because you were too busy getting your groove on with the hunk of the month over there," he gestured dismissively towards poor Groo, who looked lost and confused. "Why don't you leave the important matters to the grown-ups, eh?"

"Spike," Angel growled, but there was a look in his eyes which belied the hostile tone of his voice. Was it… fondness?

Cordelia, however, was completely and totally hostile and there was no mitigating emotion whatsoever. "Look, you neutered excuse for a vampire, Angel's the one who sent me off on vacation! And for your information, I'm not defending Wesley or what he did. I love Connor. He's… family, and I'm just as angry about what happened to him as anyone. I just want the chance to talk to Wesley, that's all. I want to understand…" There was something close to tears in her eyes and Willow felt… well, kind of horrible, actually. It was clear that all of this was a rude and overwhelming shock to Cordelia and she was having a hard time. Wesley had been her friend and finding out what he'd done had to be a real blow.

Her old nemesis had clearly matured; Willow could see that. Maybe it was time to hold out an olive branch. "I'm sorry," she offered. "I guess in the heat of things, we all kind of forgot how confusing this has to be for you. I mean, you and Wesley work together all the time, fighting evil, you go away for a week or two, and – Blam! He turns out to be evil too."

A slackened jaw and widening eyes were Cordelia's first response, followed by a surprising and heartfelt, "Thank you." Of course she then glared at the two vampires and added, "At least someone here understands human feelings."

"You're right. I'm sorry." An apology from Angel. That was good because Willow knew there was definitely not one coming from Spike, who proved her right by merely snorting and rolling his eyes.

"It is good that we are no longer arguing." Groo's voice and inflection were an even clearer indication than his eyes that he wasn't quite all the way human – though possibly closer to it than Anya.

Oh gosh, that reminded her… "I really need to call Buffy. Let her know that we won't be back for awhile. Mind if I use the phone?"

"Can it wait?" Angel asked. "I was hoping you'd take these things to Wesley." He all but spat the man's name.

For a split second, she thought of asking what the hurry was, but then – duh. Why would he want to have Wesley's stuff around for a moment longer? Yes, Connor was home now, and safe, but it had been a close run thing and the pain of those days without his son wasn't just going to go away. Willow got that.

There was, however, one very good reason why she could not do this. "My car's in the shop, remember?"

Angel was about to say something when Cordelia – proving that, no matter what, the universe would never stop being surprising – chimed in. "I'll take you." Okay… huh? Why didn't she just offer to take the stuff herself?

But if Willow thought there was a way out of this, she was probably wrong, since Angel immediately handed her the box and, with a look that was full of undercurrents she didn't quite get, said, "Thank you."

Spike clearly saw the writing on the wall as well and, instead of starting a brand new row, said, "I'll call the Slayer for you, let her know what's up and that you'll be calling her yourself later."

She was about to thank him, but instead the words that came out were, "I love you."

With a surprised, but very pleased, smile, Spike replied, "Love you too, pet. Be back soon, okay?"

"I will." As she followed Cordelia out of the hotel, she concentrated on the sound of Spike's voice…

And not on the look in Angel's eyes.

To be continued…


	18. Chapter 18

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Eighteen)

There was nothing awkward about sitting in a car next to Cordelia Chase. Nothing at all.

Okay, there was _everything_ awkward about this. The last time they'd had really talked had been before Willow had made with the illicit Xander-smoochies – not like the 'lesbo' chat had been a real conversation; it hadn't lasted five minutes – and how long ago had _that_ been? What to say… what to say… what to… "I like your hair." That's the best you could come up with, Rosenberg? 'I like your hair'? Really?

However, maybe it was the right thing, because Cordelia smiled. "Thanks. It sure saves time, which, when you're in the 'fighting evil' business, is actually a good thing." She sighed. "You know, I can't believe I just said that."

Again the question of what to say had come up. Because it would be really bad form to agree and admit that she was really shocked at Cordelia placing _anything_ ahead of perfectly-styled long hair. Guess the seer thing… which gave Willow an idea for what to say. "You look serious now. I mean, like a seer and all."

One more attaboy for Willow because Cordelia smiled again, though a bit more sadly this time. "Yeah, I am. Serious. And a seer."

"You do a lot of good."

"You too," Cordelia responded and if Willow had been standing, she might have tumbled over. Compliments from Cordelia were not going to feel normal for a long time – maybe never.

More awkward silence as they made their traffic-slowed way to the hospital. She needed to try harder to make conversation. "So… umm… you and Groo? You guys are a couple and all, right?"

Okay, that was a smile on Cordelia's face, right? "Yeah. He's… he's my boyfriend." There was a flash of… something. If they were closer, Willow would have said something, but she didn't know Cordelia well enough – not anymore. For all she knew, that flash was a vision. Or heartburn. Or nothing. Better to just keep her mouth shut on the subject. Especially since now Cordelia was turning the tables. "So, the romance with Spike. That's new, huh? Last I heard, you were doing the Ellen DeGeneres thing."

Willow fought the urge to roll her eyes at the insensitive characterization. After all, it beat 'lesbo.' "I'm bisexual. But Spike and I have been together for a few months." She debated whether to offer any carefully edited details of how she and Spike came to be together but decided to skip it. "We just… click, you know? I love him more than anyone I've ever known."

There was that odd 'something' again, but Cordelia's answer was a bland, "I hear ya." Had she even listened?

Goody. Here they were at the hospital and Cordelia was too busy navigating the – to Willow's admittedly small town view – complicated parking lot situation to betray any further disinterest in her love life.

Eventually, parking was accomplished and the two women got out, Willow carrying the box, and began making their way to the very large and imposing building. Just before they hit the door, however, Cordelia turned to her and put her hand on her arm, so Willow stopped. "I haven't said thank you, have I? For Connor. I should have because… I love him, you know."

Cordelia was right. "I know." Which was true, because even if Willow hadn't known before this instant, the choked sob beneath her one-time nemesis's words told the truth louder than her voice could manage. You know, maybe it was time to reexamine her opinion of Cordelia Chase. Willow had grown up and changed since high school; wasn't it only logical to assume that Cordelia had too?

The box was getting heavy and Cordelia seemed to notice. "Let's get this over with." Tight lines appeared at the corner of her eyes and Willow once again felt for her. Her own memories of Wesley were of a useless bumbler who wore too much pomade, sported suits that didn't fit correctly, and who had a crush on Cordelia that could have been seen from space; but she knew that in the years since then he'd become a valued member of Angel's team and that no doubt his relationship with Cordelia had evolved into a close friendship. How much his betrayal had to hurt.

"I'm really sorry," she said, and her companion gave her a soft half-smile.

"Thanks." A second later, they were at the desk and the efficient, if brusque, nurse behind it punched a few keys on her computer and gave them Wesley's room number.

The elevator was sleek and modern and the dings for each floor were discreet. One more thing in this town that made her feel like a real bumpkin – and that made her hate her parents for not exposing her to any of the experiences that they so eagerly went off to enjoy all her life while leaving her behind to fend for herself.

Now wasn't exactly the best time to think about this stuff, because here they were on Wesley's floor… and a moment later, in Wesley's room. He looked small and almost fragile in his hospital gown with a bandage around his neck. But for all his seeming weakness, this man had done so much damage.

He looked surprised to see them, but he didn't speak. Instead, he pointed to his throat immediately by way of explanation. Cordelia wasn't going to hear what he had to say, after all. Oh, well, that was kind of good because Willow was pretty sure any alibi he attempted to offer would be pathetically bogus. No, she wasn't bitter about his willingness to sacrifice her to Faith and the Mayor back in high school.

Well, not _very_ bitter.

This box was heavy, though. What was it with men and ponderous office statuary? Her dad had stuff like this in his unused office at home.

She wasn't the only one who'd walked in here with baggage, though only she could set most of hers on a table near the door – which she did with a grateful sigh. Cordelia didn't waste a second laying into the man trapped in his bed. "I read those stupid prophecies you actually thought were genuine. What the hell were you thinking? How could you ever for one minute believe that Angel would ever hurt Connor? Are you brain damaged or something?" She glared at him, arms akimbo and she'd clearly gotten over any desire she might have had to try and be understanding. "That's a rhetorical question, by the way, and I wouldn't want to hear your answer even if you _could_ talk, which I'm glad you can't, because I don't want to hear a word you have to say. Ever. Oh, and don't even think of coming back to the hotel again. There's no forgiveness for you. You're not one of us. I don't think you ever were." Wesley winced visibly and it was clear that Cordelia's words had hurt him. Was it wrong that Willow's own inner cheerleader was shaking her pom-poms right now?

But if Cordelia's tirade had wounded Wesley, it was clear that the sword was double-edged. She should step in and steer her… well, maybe they _were_ friends now, friends-in-the-making anyway. At any rate, she ought to at least help her make an exit. "We should go, Cordelia." She wondered if she should say anything about Connor being home safe and sound, but maybe letting Wesley suffer, still thinking the boy was gone, was the right call. After all, if Cordelia hadn't said anything, why should she?

"You're right. We have good to do and a detective agency to run." With that, Willow was guided out of the room.

When they got to the elevator, Willow could see that the normally cool and poised woman's hands were shaking. "God I wanted to kill him. If you hadn't saved…" She sighed heavily. "Orange is so not my colour."

It took Willow a second or two, but she made the connection to prison uniforms. "No." This was the time for levity so she channeled Buffy. "Plus, jumpsuits? They're so two seasons ago."

The doors opened and the two women got in, Cordelia smiling again. "Thanks," she said, and Willow got it. Yeah, they were friends now.

To be continued…


	19. Chapter 19

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Nineteen)

On the drive back to the hotel, Willow had filled Cordelia in on some of the details of the evolution of her relationship with Spike and Cordelia had reciprocated with the story of her and Groo; now all she wanted was a quick chat with the others about the meeting with Wesley and the chance to spend some quality time with her guy. She had a hunch that was exactly what Cordelia wanted as well.

Neither one of them seemed to have an in with the Powers that Be right now because the first thing they were confronted with upon reentering the Hyperion was everyone standing in the lobby listening to a near-hysterical Fred.

"I know he's in trouble! Charles would never say those things to me!"

Okay, walking in at the halfway point of a conversation was never good. Charles? It took Willow a second, but then she remembered that Charles was Gunn's first name. All right. That solved one problem. It was the trouble part that was confusing her. Of course, she didn't seem to be the only one. Cordelia looked puzzled and even the people she assumed had been here from the get-go had 'we just don't get it' expressions. Good. Willow hated feeling stupid and out of the loop.

Further listening to Fred's fractured rambling wasn't helping – and that too seemed to be true for everyone else. Including Spike, who was never able to contain himself when he got exasperated. Was it wrong that Willow was kind of grateful that he was only slightly bigger with the tact than Anya? Because at least he was trying to get them all somewhere. "Look, luv, I gather that Charles acted a royal prat. Hate to tell you this, though, but that's par for the course for the male of the species. We're bastards the lot of us and not much good at letting the fairer sex down gently. Doesn't mean we're _in_ trouble – well, not unless the bird we're breaking up with is armed."

Groo now looked more hopelessly confused than ever and what he said next… "Birds? How would you have a relationship with a bird? I was not aware that humans and animals here…" Oh god.

Cordelia stepped in. "It's just an expression that means 'girl'. Slang. From England. That's where Spike's from."

The expression of confusion faded and he nodded and smiled. It was amazing how unoffended he was. It was sort of cute. He wasn't exactly the kind of guy she'd have ever pictured with Cordelia, but then again, her new friend/old acquaintance had changed. This guy might be perfect for the more mature version of Queen C.

"Can we get back to Charles?" Fred cried. "Because he's not like you, Spike. He's good and he's kind and he would never say the things he said to me. He's in trouble!"

Okay, insulting her guy? Not okay. But Willow chalked it up to Fred's hysteria and she began to wonder if maybe there was something to it. She wasn't Buffy, but she had spider senses of her own and they were tingling. There was energy emanating from something – creepy, magical energy… and that something was a someone: Groo.

Had she been wrong in thinking he was a nice guy? But if she had, why hadn't she felt this energy earlier? If only Tara were here, because she knew how to aura read. Goddess, what to do… what to do…

Arguing and discussion were still going on, some of it – Spike's section – a bit on the snide and defensive side, but Willow paid it no heed and blurted out, "Empty your pockets, Groo." Everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at her, so she added, "Please?"

Angel locked eyes with her and then instructed Groo, "Do it."

With truly unflappable equanimity and a smile that reminded her of Riley, he did as asked. Much to Willow's shock, Cordelia said nothing as he complied. As she looked over the few items he laid on the front desk, her senses immediately drew her to a business card. She touched it and… ewww… very creepy. "Where did you get this?"

Groo smiled again, "A creature who was looking for Gunn gave that rectangle to me yesterday and asked me to give it to him."

Before she could pick it up and look at it, Angel grabbed it. "Jenoff," he said and though the name was unfamiliar, Willow felt a cold chill go up her spine.

"Who is he?"

"The Soul Sucker."

Memories of Rack and the tours he took flashed through her mind and for a moment she was short of breath. A Soul Sucker sounded even worse than her one-time magic dealer and he'd been a nightmare.

This card meant that everyone owed Fred a really big apology. Because Gunn? He was in trouble.

A casino? Really? Even Spike was rolling his eyes at the rather clichéd environment. You know, demons really needed to learn how not to be ridiculous.

And Willow really needed to learn to keep her mind in the moment because they were all now surrounded by really ugly demons dressed like bouncers from some bad movie about Las Vegas. Great. At least her side had weapons, right?

"Charles!" Fred cried and, peering through the wall of beefy demonic muscle surrounding them, Willow could just make out Gunn… being held back by an even creepier demon than the ones with whom Angel, Groo, and Spike were now tussling. Spike was actually grinning. It was scary how much he loved to fight. Scarier still that, without magic, Willow could do nothing but stand back and watch. She really needed to start training because she wasn't going to slide back down the slippery slope.

A second later, Angel had one of the demons in a headlock with an axe at his neck. "What does a guy have to do to talk to the boss around here?"

A demon in a tux stepped forward, doing his best DeNiro. "I'm the boss. Mind tellin' me why you're disrupting my business?"

"I'd say it was you who's disrupting mine," Angel answered, throttling his prisoner some more for good measure. "You're about to deprive me of a very valuable employee. Charles Gunn, there? He works for me."

"A good businessman looks into the backgrounds of potential employees. Had you done that, you might've learned he was strictly short-term material."

Oh goddess. Gunn had really done this, hadn't he? He'd sold his soul. How stupid…? Okay, maybe her house was a little too fragile and transparent for her to be throwing stones and all, but… what had he done?

Angel was still posturing. "You release him, forget what he owes you - and I'll let you live."

Okay, that would have worked a whole lot better if Jenoff didn't have the upper hand, which he knew because after a very sarcastic "Thank you", his next words were "Kill 'em," followed by a whole lot of demons getting ready to do just that. Spike stood in front of her and Willow began praying to the goddess, wondering what to do.

But then she was distracted. Because just the very minute after she'd decided that Gunn was at least her equal in the 'Really Bad Decisions Sweepstakes', Angel said something that showed he might be stupider than the both of them. "Double or nothing."

What?

"You offerin' me your soul?"

"A chance to win it, anyway."

"How stupid do I look to you? You're a vampire. I can smell it from here."

"Take a bigger whiff. I'm a vampire with a soul."

Willow was about to object, strenuously, when Spike shook his head. Okay, if he thought they could handle this…

Jenoff inhaled deeply. First he smiled, then he inhaled again, and then his expression grew dark and angry. "What the hell game are you trying to play?" He glared daggers at Angel. "You're trying to bet with something that you don't own. Did you think I wouldn't be able to tell?"

Huh? What? Spike and Angel both looked at her and she shrugged her confusion. No, she had no idea what that meant. But they had bigger problems now, because Jenoff spat out, "Kill them all now… so Gunn here can watch his little friends die before I collect my debt."

She wasn't a demon, but even she could sense the panic surging through her whole group.

Oddly, she wasn't sharing it. The same feeling she'd felt right before she'd done the spell to save Connor washed through her and she reached out her hand, making sure Jenoff was clear of Gunn before she pointed and cried, "Incendere!"

And just like that, the Soul Sucker was consumed by flames for an instant before the space where he'd stood was as empty as if he'd never stood there.

As for the demons, they all seemed to have stuff to do elsewhere and the casino emptied out almost as quickly as Jenoff had died, though a lot more noisily.

Well, except for the seven of them.

Spike put his arm around her and kissed her cheek reverently before snarking, "Bit of an anticlimax, that."

Gunn was already wrapped tight in Fred's embrace when he said, "Seemed just fine to me." He turned his head and looked at Willow. "Thank you."

"Yeah, thanks, Willow," Cordelia added.

"You are a very powerful sorcerer," Groo said, smiling. "We are fortunate that you fight on our side."

Angel, though, wore a very serious expression. He was probably thinking about how Connor was doing back at the hotel with only Lorne to protect him. "Let's go," he said, but instead of rushing out the door, he somehow directed traffic so that Groo, Gunn, Cordelia, and Fred were out of the casino before she and Spike… and him. He had something to say, and he did. "When we get back to the hotel, we need to talk." Okay, obviously she'd been wrong about the source of his dour mood. Guess he hadn't forgotten what Jenoff had said about his soul.

She hadn't either. What in the heck was going on?

To be continued…


	20. Chapter 20

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty)

Lorne wasn't glaring at her, thank heavens, but Willow could tell that he still didn't like her. One of these days, she was going to have to get him alone and ask him what the heck his problem was.

That day wasn't going to be tonight, since Angel was basically ordering him from the room where Connor was happily cooing in his crib and now… well, now the three of them were going to have a talk, huh? She held tight to Spike's hand and noticed he was holding tight right back. He was nervous, too, it seemed.

Of course, then she found a small reason to relax – a baby-sized reason, in fact. How bad could things get with Connor in the room?

A moment later, with Lorne safely away, Willow found out. "What the hell did Jenoff mean about my soul?" Angel asked, his voice tight through gritted teeth.

Okay, that was pretty much the question she'd expected, unfortunately… "I don't know." Which was true. She had no idea what Jenoff was talking about.

Unfortunately, Angel wasn't going to take that for an answer. In fact, he was glaring at her so angrily that Spike actually stepped in front of her. "She doesn't know," he affirmed, and even though Willow couldn't see his face, she knew he was matching Angel's glare with a fierce one of his own. Gosh but she loved Spike.

Still, in the interest of preserving the peace, she decided to try and spitball a little. "Maybe it has something to do with me giving it to you?" But even as she said it, she didn't believe it… and she realized that Jenoff's revelation raised a lot of brand new questions about the curse. Was it even in place? Could Angel have been allowed to be happy all this time without knowing it? Oh god – what about Buffy? But then there was the _really_ big question: If it wasn't Angel's soul to wager, was it even Angel's soul at all?

Oh goddess! Had she given Angel the wrong soul?

The more thinking she did, the worse everything seemed. She needed to get out of here before she blurted something out. "I… I should go meditate. Sometimes when I do that, I get answers." Again, she was being honest , because she was definitely going to meditate right this second – if by meditation, you meant 'beg and plead with the goddess and every other deity out there to give her some answers'.

She kissed Spike on the cheek. "I need to be alone for this, okay?"

"You go find your answers, pet." He pulled her into a quick embrace and she could feel his nervousness. As much as misery was supposed to love company, she hated that he was obviously as worried as she was.

"I'm sorry," Angel interjected. "I know you've never kept anything from me. I just…"

"I get it. I can see why you'd be kind of unsettled." Boy was that ever an understatement. He probably had more right to be nervous than any of them. But he was giving her another of those really strange looks that she'd been getting a lot these days and it made her wish her car wasn't trapped at the repair shop. ""I'm gonna go… do the meditation and everything."

Giving Spike another quick hug, she hurried out of Angel's room. She had to be able to find the answer to what was going on with Angel's soul. Surely the goddess would help her and enlighten her.

Unfortunately, just as she was about to open the door to her room, she remembered she was going to need something – something important. For this kind of meditation, sticking to the rules and rituals was almost certainly her best bet, so a white candle? Pretty much mandatory. But she'd already used the one she had. Darn it! Why had she only brought _one_? Okay, yes, she'd thought all she'd be doing was getting Connor back and then heading right home to Sunnydale, so she… was still kicking herself because experience should have taught her to be prepared for the unexpected by now. All she could do was hope the candle she needed was in what had once been Wesley's office.

So she headed straight downstairs and went straight to that very office. Nope, it hadn't been emptied, and she rooted through what hadn't made its way back to Wesley tonight, which included a surprising amount of magic supplies along with almost all of those rare books she'd drooled over when they'd been researching. Guess Angel had decided to keep them. Well, she wasn't going to feel badly. She figured Wesley barely deserved the paperweights and other tchotchkes she and Cordelia had returned to him – he'd sent Connor to Quor'toth.

Luck was with her and she found not only a white candle but some sacred sand. Jackpot!

When she came out of the room, she half expected to see Spike poking around for something to occupy him. He wasn't… oh goddess. Please let him not have stayed in the room with Angel because she was not willing to trust Connor's presence to keep them from staking each other.

Worried, she decided to postpone the meditation long enough to go check on them and, quietly because she wanted to hear what was going on before she burst in, she crept up to the door. It was still ajar – not far enough to see anything, but enough for her to hear what was going on. Good.

Of course, just like before, she was late to the party and had obviously missed some important elements of the discussion.

"I'm telling you again, I'm not interested in her."

"That's right, Angelus. You just keep tellin' yourself that. I saw the way you were looking at her." Huh? Spike couldn't mean… She kept listening for some clarification, but there wasn't any.

Instead, there was a long pause and Angel spoke, his voice a whole lot huskier than she was used to from him when he had his soul. Her stomach dropped. "Jealous, William?"

"Not bloody likely. Got over you a long time ago, you arrogant git." It sounded as if he was going to say more, but instead she heard a noise and then nothing.

A sense of foreboding filled her and she couldn't help herself – pushing the door open ever so slightly and hoping they didn't notice, she peered into the room.

Oh no. Oh goddess no.

Spike was kissing Angel. Or Angel was kissing Spike. Or they were kissing each other. It didn't matter. What mattered was that the man she loved was in the arms of his sire and even though what they were doing looked aggressive and angry… She'd been afraid of this, hadn't she? That Spike and Angel still had feelings for each other. She tried to back away silently, but she stumbled and dropped the candle. Oh great.

In an instant, Spike and Angel parted and raced out into the hall where she was trying to pick up her candle – and her dignity. "Love, it wasn't what it looked like. I swear to you."

"Really?" She tried not to sound as hurt and angry as she felt – she wasn't sure she had a right to either emotion – but she couldn't help it. "Because it looked like you guys were kissing and… okay, yeah, I get that you guys have history, but…"

"We need to talk." Angel's voice was low, but somehow it commanded at the same time and when Spike made to argue, Angel cut him off. "I'm going to talk to her, William." He nodded back towards his room. "Keep an eye on Connor."

"You'd better…"

Angel cut him off again. "I will."

Spike turned to her. "I love you. Believe that." Then he did as he'd been told and went back into Angel's room. This time, he closed the door. Was that merely literal or was there a frightening metaphor there as well?

Well, she guessed she'd have to postpone thinking about that, because even though he wasn't her sire, Angel's whole 'command' thing seemed to have the same effect on her as it did on Spike. His hand was on her arm and she wasn't making any move to tell him to just go away and leave her alone. Quite the opposite. Clutching her candle and sand, Willow let Angel lead her back to the room she'd been sharing with Spike. She had no idea what he was going to say, but she was pretty sure she didn't want to hear it.

To be continued…


	21. Chapter 21

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-One)

Still feeling that sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Willow put the sand and candle on the bed as Angel closed the door behind them.

Oh goddess. Door closed. She turned and looked him straight in the eye, willing herself not to hate him. It didn't work, but she kept trying even as the image of him kissing Spike insisted on swimming before her eyes… eyes that she couldn't stop from filling with tears.

Great. Now he could see how pathetic she was.

"Sit down." It was an order. She wasn't the easily-cowed little girl she'd once been, but she obeyed anyway, hating herself all the while, and in a second she was perched primly on the edge of the bed. Angel loomed over her. "There are things you don't understand. Things about vampires."

She was about to argue that point, but his face… no, she was not going to contradict him. Besides, he was probably right. Sure, she knew a lot about vampires from the 'fighting them' side and a little bit from the 'being in love with one' side, but… yeah, there was a lot she didn't know and she had a feeling she needed to if she was going to hang on to Spike. Wiping away the last vestige of tears, she steeled herself and locked eyes with Angel. "Tell me."

The grin he favored her with was mirthless and faded quickly. "Do you remember when we talked the other night? About family?" She nodded and he continued, seeming almost lost in himself for a moment. "Humans have no idea… For us, family is everything. We don't separate our lives and our needs from our blood."

It didn't take long for Willow to get what he meant and it explained so much – so much that she supposed she already knew…and that she feared. She could feel the agony of loss already and it promised to be worse than losing Oz and even Tara had been. A part of her screamed to just get it over with because anticipation could only heighten her pain, but instead of asking about… well, instead she asked, "What about Buffy?"

"She was a mistake." Angel's words were a gut punch to the best friend of that very girl, but he continued as if he couldn't see the stricken look on her face. "She was me trying to be human. I loved her. I loved her in a way I've never loved anyone, but… I loved her with the man I used to be, not the one I _am_."

All she had to be grateful for right now was that Buffy wasn't here to hear what Willow just had – would never learn a bit of it if Willow had her way, and she would. But she herself wasn't going to have that same protection. Trying to keep her voice from shaking, she asked the question whose answer was sure to shatter her into a million pieces, the answer Spike had already given her the moment his lips touched Angel's: "What about me?"

She thought she saw a bright flash of gold in Angel's eyes but it was gone so quickly she couldn't be sure it had been there at all. A second later, he took her hand, looked into her eyes and said, "You're family."

The intensity of his gaze was almost frightening, but she couldn't look away. She did, however, manage to ask, "Why me? How am I different from Buffy?"

If she was expecting him to blink, she was disappointed. She'd also half expected the obvious answer: You're not a Slayer. She didn't get that either. "I don't know," he answered in a voice low but not soft and oddly devoid of the uncertainty his words should carry. "But Spike felt it, right from the beginning… and so have I."

"What do you mean?" Even as she asked, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She was feeling a rush of guilt about Buffy right now, like she was in an exclusive club her best friend hadn't been invited to join. Did Buffy ever feel like this about being a Slayer?

No, she knew Buffy never had, but somehow it did nothing to lessen the guilt.

Angel's voice didn't lessen it either, and if it was a distraction, it wasn't necessarily a welcome one. "Why do you think Spike kidnapped you? You think there weren't other witches in the world? More experienced ones? He was drawn to you… like calling to like." He paused and Willow realized with a start that she was standing now and he was perilously close. "It's the same for me."

While she hadn't wondered what it would be like to kiss the lips her lover had just kissed, she was finding out anyway – Angel was kissing her.

She hadn't realized how much tension there had been between them until now. It was as if a cloud had burst. This, though? It was no healing rain, no, no. It was a violent storm with crashes of dangerous lightning and if Willow had felt guilty before, she felt worse now – worse even than she'd felt when Oz caught her with Xander. She pushed against him, willing him to let go, tempted to use magic to make it happen if he didn't.

Luckily, she never had to find out if she would have given in because Angel pulled back. Just as he did, the break in contact reminded her of a feeling which had been the exact opposite. "The spell," she babbled, "This is that spell. I knew it meant something… the way… oh goddess! What did I do?"

Angel was staring at her in confusion and she tried to explain, caught in a rush of emotions that ping-ponged between frantic relief because maybe this was something that wasn't real and could be undone to more powerful guilt than ever because if it _was_ the spell, then it was her fault for using magic again and… "During the spell, I felt…"

"Our hands becoming one," he finished.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. I knew someone else should have done the spell to get Connor back. I should have asked Giles. I know I could have made him understand if I just…"

"No you couldn't have," Angel interrupted harshly. "You did the spell because you were the only one who could. I talked to other witches, you know. They all said it couldn't be done. Calling you was my last resort." That last had obviously been something he hadn't intended to reveal because he looked ashamed the moment he blurted it out. He hastened to clarify. "Only because I didn't want Buffy to know about Connor."

"It's okay," she said automatically, even though it was a big lie, because _nothing_ was okay. Not now, maybe not ever. Everything was slotting itself into places in her head, trying to find itself a neat, logical, orderly pattern, and all she could think of was that, while she could blame Angel kissing _her_ on the spell, she couldn't blame that for what happened between him and Spike. "You want him to stay, don't you?" she said softly, her voice nearly a whisper. "Spike. You want him to stay." Angel reached out to stroke her hair, but she jerked her head away. "Just be honest with me, all right?"

There was that angry look she remembered from the night she'd offered to pay for her dinner. "I _have_ been," he all but growled, and, for all the magic at her disposal, Willow was more than a bit cowed.

Stepping back, she took a breath and rephrased. "That's not what I meant. I just… This is my life, Angel." Her eyes filled with tears as she stared into his. "I need to know what's going to happen."

Angel stepped forward, reaching out for her again. This time she let him touch her cheek. "He loves you. That hasn't changed."

"But you…"

"He's my blood. That hasn't changed either."

"It's different, isn't it? I mean from the way people – human-type people – feel about blood and family and stuff." Because she'd never felt anything like the way Angel and Spike felt for any of _her_ relatives, not even her cousin Jacob, who was actually cute.

He nodded. "It's very different, so different I don't think I can explain…"

"I get it," Willow cut him off. She'd grown sick of people telling her there was stuff she couldn't understand long ago. She'd saved the numberless acceptance letters she'd gotten from every major university in the USA and half the ones in Europe. Why did no one ever treat her like someone with a working brain?

"You don't," he challenged and what he said next stopped her short. "It's not that you're not intelligent. You're one of the most brilliant women I've ever known. But this isn't about…" He chuckled and she wondered why until he continued. "Spike said something about blood, not brains, once. He was talking about…," another pause before Angel said, "something else. But it fits here. What we have" – the way he said 'we' was a subtle but definite inclusion and Willow felt that strange sensation of being accepted into a world where no one else she knew could follow – "it's not like anything humans know." He said 'humans' as if she wasn't one, but she was, wasn't she?

She was. She was human. It all crashed down on her – the thoughts of growing older while her lover stayed forever young, her uncertainty about the spell… the vision of Spike locked in Angel's embrace. "I need to be alone." She'd meant to be strong and emphatic but instead her words were a plea. Oh well, at least Angel seemed to heed it.

He turned for the door. Just as he was about to open it, he looked back at her. "Spike loves you. Where you go, he'll follow."

Then he was gone.

Willow burst into tears.

To be continued…


	22. Chapter 22

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Two)

If ever there was a time when Willow needed the guidance of her goddess, it was now, but in the state she was in, meditation was the impossible dream. Her head was swirling with fear and raw emotion in a chaotic maelstrom. What was she going to do?

Focusing on Angel's curse wasn't helping either, not like she'd ever forgotten it. How could she? But the curse hadn't stopped Angel from kissing Spike – or from kissing _her_ – had it? And somehow it didn't in any way diminish her anxiety about what the heck was going on between them all.

She knew what Angel said about Spike's feelings for her, but she also knew that what he'd told her about demons was absolutely true and that because of that Angel and Spike had a bond that was never going to be broken, even if it had seemed to be dormant until… well, until this visit to Los Angeles. This was all so confusing. Had the spell done this? It couldn't be responsible for _everything_, because she'd sensed Spike's ambivalence about Angel back home when he'd been the one who'd encouraged her to get permission to come here and rescue Connor in the first place.

But what about what had happened between Angel and _her_? As upset as she was about catching Spike and Angel, that didn't change the fact that she still felt guilty, more and more guilty by the second in fact. She didn't even try to rationalize it as payback. Wrong was wrong, wasn't it?

Out of the blue, she realized she wanted so badly to talk this over with Buffy, but she couldn't – she so couldn't – and as much as she'd totally intended to _call_ her best friend, there was no way she could talk to her anytime soon. Thinking about her made the tears fall harder than ever. This made _two_ of Buffy's guys she'd smooched – and, in Spike's case, done a whole lot more with – and she was starting to think that maybe that fluke with Xander hadn't been so much a fluke as a preview of coming attractions.

That was silly, though, wasn't it? It wasn't like Angel and Buffy were still a couple or anything… but Buffy still loved him and Willow knew it.

She'd always thought of herself as a good person, except for her descent into bad magic, but now she was starting to wonder. Had Spike been wrong about her?

If only her car wasn't trapped at some overpriced mechanic's shop. She wanted to flee as fast as that car could carry her, not that she could, at least not with… not with Spike.

Unable to help herself, she lay across the bed and burst into tears again.

So lost in her emotions was she that she didn't hear the door open and she almost jumped out of her skin when she felt the bed dip beside her. "Who… oh."

It was Spike. She struggled to sit up and, after she wiped her eyes, she could see that she wasn't the only one who was upset; pain was written all over his face. Surprisingly, it didn't make her feel any better. Guess her misery didn't love company after all. "Hey, love." He reached for her and she let him take her hand, realizing how heated her anguish had made her by how cold his skin felt against hers.

She intended to ask about his feelings for Angel, but what burst forth was a choked, "I love you," and a fresh flood of tears.

In a flash, she was in Spike's arms, held so tight she could scarcely breathe. "I love you, too. More than anything. Please believe me."

Clinging to him, she wanted to reassure him, but… it wasn't that simple. Yes, she knew he loved her, but everything Angel had said about blood and family was roiling around within her and the truth was that, though Angel had _called_ her family, she wasn't, was she? How could she be? There wasn't that bond of blood between them, and that's what it all came down to with vampires. But she whispered, "I know," to Spike because she couldn't bring herself to admit how terrified she was.

There was stuff they needed to talk about and she knew it, but she wasn't thinking about that now. She needed Spike. So she extricated herself briefly from his embrace, grabbed the sand and candles, put them on the night stand, and then pulled Spike close and kissed him.

As if she needed a reminder, no, it was nothing like kissing Angel. It wasn't stormy and terrifying – instead it was like finding a piece of herself again. Was it the same for him? Did she give him something he couldn't get from anyone else?

"I love you." He said it over and over between kisses as they frantically undressed each other and she said it right back, all the while wondering just what it meant to him… and if it even mattered. Because…

Oh goddess. She was about to have sex with someone she loved under false pretenses again, wasn't she? And if this time it didn't smack of anything nearly as terrible as the memory spell she'd performed on Tara, there was still the fact that Spike didn't know something important and he needed to – didn't he? Pulling back slightly, she looked into Spike's eyes and blurted out, "He kissed me."

Spike's eyes flashed gold and for the briefest of moments she saw ridges and fangs. "That bastard!" he growled. It was probably a good thing she hadn't managed to get his jeans off, because Spike was off the bed a second later and out the door.

What had she done? Grateful her own jeans were still on, she grabbed her shirt and, throwing it on sans bra to save time, she dashed out after Spike, hoping he didn't get himself killed.

It wasn't hard to guess where he'd gone; she raced to Angel's room. The door was wide open and she could immediately see that her presence might be all to the good for the sake of their safety. Both men were in full game face and battle posture, heedless of Connor, who could obviously feel the tension in the air because he was crying.

"Angel," she cried out, "you're upsetting your son!" Why her words got through when the baby's wails hadn't, Willow had no idea, but at least something did, because Angel's posture fractionally relaxed, as did Spike's, and their human faces slowly returned. Surprising herself, she hurried to the crib and picked up Connor, rocking him and cooing to him. "It's all right. Tante Willow is here. It's all right." Tante Willow? Really? What was she thinking? But she kept rocking the baby.

Spike, however, still had things to say to Angel. "You just can't stop yourself, can you, Angelus? You can't leave anything that's mine alone."

Angel shot her a quick look, but he didn't seem surprised, and he shouldn't be. She didn't keep secrets from Spike. "I'm not trying to take her away from you."

A loud snort was Spike's first response, then he said, "Tell that to those idiots you work with. That lot might believe that your soul makes you all sweetness and light. I know better. I know _you_. You don't think I've seen the way you've been lookin' at her from the minute we got here?"

Huh? Angel hadn't been… Willow didn't know what to think about that because she was remembering looks he'd given her and… but that was stuff to ponder later, right along with the fact that maybe there was a little bit of a hypocrisy in Spike being this upset about Angel kissing her when he and Angel… No, more important was something going on right this minute. She didn't like the way that both Angel _and_ Spike were talking about her as if she were a possession. She had free will, thank you very much, and nobody could 'take' her from anyone. "I'm not a thing," she interrupted. "I make up my own mind about who I want to be with." Even with her arms full of now-calm infant, she could still muster up her Resolve Face and she was gratified that both men were now looking at _her_.

She took a deep breath and continued. "Look, a lot of stuff has happened tonight and a lot of stuff needs to get dealt with, but I don't think now is the time for any of it. We all need some space." She handed Connor back to his father and continued. "I'm sure there's another room where Spike can sleep or whatever. I need to do that meditation we talked about before…" Her voice trailed off and she walked up to Spike, kissing him softly. "I'll just be a little while," she whispered. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he answered in a voice that was low but full of emotion. "Mind you remember that."

Nodding, she kissed him again, quickly, and then headed back to her room. How it had happened, she didn't know, but somehow, despite all the chaos and conflict, she was ready now.

It was time to ask the goddess for that guidance she – _they_ - needed.

To be continued…


	23. Chapter 23

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Three)

Willow sat on the floor in the center of the circle she'd drawn with sacred sand, the room illuminated only by candles. Deep, calm breath followed deep, calm breath as she sank slowly into the meditative state required to approach the goddess and receive enlightenment. She was doing everything correctly, approaching in humility, following all the steps purely…

But it wasn't going at all the way she expected.

Instead of feeling the warm and loving presence of her goddess, she felt something powerful, but remote and unfamiliar, as if her phone call had been intercepted by a stranger. It was scarier than that, though, especially since, when she tried to pull back, she failed.

Her questions fell from her hands, and there were answers of a sort, but… no, they weren't the answers she was looking for. At least she didn't think so. But try as she might, she could get nothing more. Whatever power it was who had taken over this encounter, it was clear that they weren't interested in her peace of mind.

When her eyes finally opened, she felt more confused than ever. What had happened? Was this yet another example of her magic going horribly wrong? Why hadn't she entered the presence of her goddess? And whose energy had it been which surrounded her instead?

She took a deep breath, feeling an odd sense of reassurance, as if the goddess had blessed her after all, but it was faint and distant and it did nothing to give her the answers she was still without.

Deciding instead to focus on what she had, she cleared her mind, reaching for what she'd brought with her when she emerged from her meditation. It wasn't much. It was actually less than she thought now that she looked at it. Something about balancing the scales and powers joined for a higher purpose. That and the fact that it couldn't be undone.

What it amounted to? That feeling of joining flesh they'd experienced when saving Connor seemed to mean that they were really… joined. Which she guessed was why Angel's soul wasn't available to place bets with anymore. It was part of a package now.

But what did it all mean? Was the spell the reason Angel had kissed her? What about Spike? He didn't even _have_ a soul. And what about him and Angel? Did that have anything to do with the spell? What about Angel's soul? Did this change the clause? What about her life in Sunnydale? What about Buffy?

Goddess, her head felt as if the questions were about to explode inside it, but there was nothing she could do. Clearly, she wasn't going to get any answers, at least not now. Maybe knowing _something_ was supposed to be good enough.

She could only imagine how Spike was going to feel, though, and it was a darn good thing he didn't have the mojo to enter the presence of the higher powers or he'd start a ruckus they'd never be forgiven for.

With a sigh, she rose to her feet and began cleaning up, though she was going to need a vacuum to get all the sand. Did Angel even have a vacuum? Who polished the furniture and did the floors around here, anyway? A glance at the dust bunnies made her think the answer to that was probably 'no one.' But at least – hey – a question with an answer. That was of the good at the moment.

Another heavy sigh as she stared down at the floor where the circle was now mostly obliterated and the candles were absent. Guess she should go find Spike and tell him what little she'd learned; Angel too. Again, the impulse to just grab Spike and leave overwhelmed her, but her car… Oh heck. She was trapped here now, wasn't she? And so was Spike. That was something concrete she could extrapolate from the paltry scraps she'd been handed by… whoever. Well, at least now maybe she knew why a perfectly reliable automobile had suddenly and inexplicably died in a fast food parking lot, huh?

Speaking of which, she still hadn't heard from the darn mechanics.

Enough stalling, Willow. Time to go and let everyone know what little you've managed to dig up about the mystery of Angel's soul.

So that's what she did. She walked out into the hall and turned right, figuring Spike had tried to find a place as far away from Angel as possible. Her supposition was proved correct when she opened the very last door at the end of the hall, saw Spike lying on the bed, and… sneezed. Goddess this room was dusty. Something needed to be done.  
"Gesundheit," he offered, getting up and coming to her. "Sorry about the state of this place. Cheap bastard as always, that Angel. Won't even get someone in to clean this dump."

"I noticed."

There was a long silence as he pulled her into a hug, but then he asked, "So, what did the goddess have to say?"

Spike had just lobbed a super opportunity to go off on a tangent right at her, but no, she wasn't going to use it, even if it might be a good idea to explain to him that the goddess didn't exactly sit across the table from her and chit-chat. Communication with higher powers didn't work that way. But explaining how it actually worked could wait. Right now, she needed to tell him what had happened. Pulling out of his arms, she took his hand and looked into his eyes. "I didn't actually manage to connect with the goddess." He looked puzzled and she hastened to explain. "Oh, I tried, but something else kind of was there instead – not sure what or who except that they weren't a bad guy or anything – and they weren't all that forthcoming." Or warm and comforting, she might add. "They were sort of… not all that friendly. Anyway, what I got is that we're all joined now. Something about balance and a higher purpose. That seems to be why Angel couldn't put up his soul as collateral. It's not just his anymore. That's pretty much all I've got though. Like I said, I wasn't in the presence of the goddess, so I didn't get what I expected. I'm sorry."

That last was an understatement because Spike's eyes betrayed a host of questions whirring in his brain the same way questions were whirring in hers. "I really am sorry. I don't know what happened. All I know is that I told you… oh, and it looks like it can't be undone."

A moment later, she was back in Spike's arms. "Not your fault, pet. Can't say though that I enjoy the thought that I'm the puppet of some being for reasons I know bugger all about." Could Willow possibly feel more guilt? Because Spike's words reminded her of that horrible spell she'd done and the time it took his memories.

"I'm so sorry," she said over and over as she burst into tears. It seemed like every time she used magic, she hurt someone she loved. That could only mean one thing: Spike was wrong, wasn't he? Deep down inside, Willow Rosenberg was evil.

"It's not your fault," he repeated to her as he held her. She was about to argue with him when he added, "Don't you go talking yourself into taking the blame for this like I know you're doing. Because this latest adventure was my idea, not yours, and anyway, the goddess signed off on it. Might not like the way things have turned out right yet, maybe not ever, but that doesn't mean it's some mistake of yours. Sometimes the universe just has its way with ya, whether you like it or not."

He had a point, she supposed, but she was loath to let herself completely off the hook just yet. Of course, if she wanted to punish herself… "I guess I better go share the news with Angel." He was probably not going to be as accepting as Spike of the paltry nature of her revelations… or of the fact that her spell probably created his weird attraction to her.

"Let's go then." Wait a minute. Spike was…? "Not leaving you alone with that bastard again, love. Anyway, we're in this together. The way we'll always be. You and I were joined long before that ruddy spell, and it's got nothing to do with magic." He leaned in and kissed her softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said before she sneezed again as their movements kicked up a dust bunny. "Let's get this over with."

To be continued…


	24. Chapter 24

Think of Me as Your Family (Chapter Twenty-Four)

Angel was downstairs in the office, Connor in tow, when Willow and Spike finally tracked him down, and Willow's nerves were already jumping. When she saw him, she felt even worse. Her mind immediately went back to two kisses: the one she'd witnessed and the one she experienced. Which one was more upsetting? Darned if she knew.

Taking her by surprise, Angel was the first one to speak. "The mechanic called. He has to replace your starter and your alternator. It's going to be at least a week." Oh great. She had no idea exactly how much all that was going to cost but it sounded expensive. "I'm paying for it," Angel continued.

She could feel Spike's tension and she realized how much he wanted to be able to step in and cover the bill himself. The whole demon thing about taking care of his girl. Even back in Sunnydale, she knew he wasn't thrilled about the fact that they were living in her house and she was pretty much the one who always paid for stuff. If only she could make him understand that she didn't care about all that. It was the twenty-first century and gender roles were obsolete, even if vampires were slow to get the memo.

Of course, the whole 'paying' thing might be moot if Angel got mad when she told him what had just happened with her meditation.

And wouldn't you know he asked about that right now. "Did you find out what Jenoff was talking about?"

Willow smiled nervously. "Umm… sort of."

"What do you mean by sort of?"

Angel was glowering and she was more anxious than ever, but she knew she had to tell him. "I didn't… I tried to commune with the goddess but… it was weird. Some other being got in the way. Oh, nothing evil," she hastened to explain, "it's just that whoever it was wasn't really friendly or forthcoming. Anyway, all they gave me was that the three of us are joined now for some higher purpose and that there's something about balance." She shrugged apologetically, but it was obvious Angel was thinking and didn't really notice.

"The Powers That Be," he murmured, sounding almost angry.

Willow was curious though. What did he mean? "The Powers That…?"

"The Powers That Be," he repeated, interrupting her. "They're the ones… They send Cordelia her visions. They're… I suppose you could say they're in charge of my destiny. And no, they're not exactly big on sharing information they don't think is absolutely essential."

"But why wouldn't they…?"

"Let you talk to your goddess? I don't know. But I can believe they'd interfere."

Spike began fuming at last, the way Willow had honestly expected him to earlier, only he was roaring at Angel, not her. "Great! Just bloody great! So your bosses have roped me into your mission, eh? Is there any power in this universe that doesn't want to play games with my unlife?"

Connor began to cry and Angel hurried over to the playpen in the corner. "Keep it down, Spike," Angel growled as he picked up his son and began comforting him… in game face, which oddly seemed to calm the little boy instantly. Whoa. Who knew?

Willow put her arm around Spike, trying to calm him. "It's my fault," she apologized. "If I hadn't…"

He kissed her cheek. "I shouldn't have popped off the way I just did. Meant what I said before - it's not your fault, love. Me and your goddess both signed off on the light show. Anyway, it's all water under the bridge now, I s'pose. Better just make the best of it." His words echoed what he'd said to her when they'd been alone and she was relieved.

Angel's eyes were on them now as they held each other, but the meaning of his expression eluded her. He was more inscrutable than Oz ever was. There were still those kisses to deal with too, weren't there.

"We should talk, shouldn't we," she said, "about what happened before."

His eyes narrowed and one corner of his mouth quirked slightly. "You mean when I kissed you?" He was posturing, wasn't he? This was a demon she was dealing with and she was finally realizing that she was way out of her depth. Nothing in her life had prepared her for what it was going to be like to be Spike's lover. Maybe if Oz had been part of a pack…

"Not just that," she replied, "when you kissed Spike, too." Her love's posture stiffened, but he stayed right beside her. "I'm not worried about when you kissed me." Her chin was thrust out now and she met his gaze. "That was just this stupid spell. But if Spike and I have to stay here, and it sort of looks like we do, then I…"

There was a flash of gold in Angel's eyes and it stopped her short. "Why do you think it was the spell?"

Okay, obviously he was offended at the idea that the… whatever you call them had manipulated his mind and implanted feelings that weren't really his, but all of a sudden it made sense and she had the rational, logical arguments to prove it. "I'm so not your type, Angel. Darla, Buffy? They're your type. If Tara were here, you'd totally be drooling. But me? No, it has to be the spell."

To her shock, it wasn't Angel who argued with her. "Wish it were that simple," Spike sighed in a low, sad voice.

"It is," she affirmed. "It has to be." She turned to Spike. "Look, I've known Angel for years and trust me, he barely spoke to me back in Sunnydale. Even when he was in my bedroom and I was in my nightgown, all he could talk about was Buffy."

Of course Spike latched onto one particular part of her recitation and he turned an accusatory gaze on Angel. "You were in her bedroom?"

Willow stepped into Spike's sightline to block out Angel and make herself clear. "He was there to ask my help to save Buffy, okay? Which is my point. All he's ever been able to think about, _ever_, is Buffy. There's no way he's suddenly attracted to me."

Just when she thought she had the situation well in hand, Angel had to step in and spoil everything. "It's not that sudden."

"You're not helping," she hissed, "and anyway, how can it not be sudden? We've barely talked to each other in years and you were never…"

"He was," Spike chimed in. Great. Whose side was he on? "What the hell do you think those fish meant? And your favorite teacher?"

"William," Angel growled, but it was too late for her to un-hear what Spike had just said and her stomach dropped.

Was it her fault that Ms. Calendar was dead? No, no, no. Her eyes filled with tears. "He's wrong, isn't he?" she pleaded.

Connor began fussing and Angel walked over and handed him to Spike. "Take him to Fred. She can change him and feed him."

"I'm not leavin' you alone with her."

"Nothing's going to happen. I give you my word."

The two men exchanged a long look. This time Willow didn't try to break through the fog of testosterone. She was a vampire's girl now and this was never going to be a modern relationship, was it?

"See you keep that promise," Spike replied before turning to Willow, cradling Connor with surprising gentleness and familiarity. "You two need to talk. But don't be afraid to mojo him right back to dust if he puts his hands on you."

"I love you," was her reply, and Spike smiled before he glowered at Angel one last time and took Connor off to be tended.

Now that Spike was gone, everything came crashing down again, but then… oh gosh! Maybe it was still a manipulated attraction and none of what Angelus had done was her fault at all. "I know that you think you might have found me attractive back when you lost your soul, but that could still be the Powers manipulating things to try to make you want me around along with Spike."

This time he chuckled. It was a dismissive sound, as if she were a silly child. "Willow, all of that happened long before you did the spell to save Connor. They could hardly go back and change my memories."

"Oh yeah? Well what about Dawn?"

"What _about_ Dawn?"

Oh goddess. He didn't know. No one had told him. Not until now. "She's not real, Angel. Some monks made her from Buffy in order to safeguard a mystical key. She's what Glory was after. But she's only been alive for two years. None of your memories of her really happened."

Angel said nothing, and Willow figured maybe he needed to be alone to process what he'd just learned, but then he smiled strangely and said, "I know. I always knew."

Okay… huh?

To be continued…


End file.
